Cold
by bufffycat
Summary: Alfred is King of Spades which should mean he can do whatever he wants. Apparently no one else feels that way and his own country has decided to send him off to live in the backwards nation of Clubs as punishment. Cardverse RusAme with a modern fantasy world spin.
1. Chapter 1

There were a great number of things Arthur could tolerate with a reasonable amount of silence.

The fact that their supposed king would sneak out at night and return in the early hours of the morning smelling of the sweet floral scented liquor often found in high-end pubs would only earn a glare and slight mumble. The times he returned with rumpled clothing, his hair a mess and a satisfied grin on his face Arthur would only roll his eyes and continue reading his informant over his morning meal. The latest exploit of childish behaviour, what new expensive toy he had found and eventually broken, or that the guards had to bring him back several times because he could not return on his own all showed little more than disapproval out of the bushy browed queen.

Except for today. Today the line had been crossed and the queen's scream could be heard echoing across the castle grounds…

"MY ROSES!

Only a few attendants brave enough attempted to slow the second in line to the throne as he stormed down the halls to the perpetrator's room. Although it was designed to withstand an invasion by the enemy the large door could not fend off an attack by the irate queen as he shoved it aside and shouted at the top of his lungs, "What have you done?!"

A groan was heard from within the tangle of blankets on the master bed which became louder after Arthur, unsatisfied by his initial response, stomped across the room and threw open the curtains to flood the space with the bright morning sun.

"What the hell?!" The king called in return from within his blanket cocoon, wincing as the sound made his head spin.

"That is what I should be saying!" Arthur spat, going to take a stance beside the bed with his arms folded. "You need to explain to me what happened!"

Another groan and the blonde head of Alfred appeared within a small crack made of fabric only to disappear a moment later. "Artie, it's like 7 in the morning!"

"The time is not relevant here!" the queen continued on, anger making his cheeks flush. "You need to explain why the auto is parked in my flower garden!"

"Oh." Alfred laughed and pulled the blanket further over his head. "Funny story…"

"Enlighten me…" Arthur growled in a tone that promised consequences if he was not appeased.

Still chuckling, Alfred stretched and fully emerged. "Well, I met up with Tony…"

"Tony?" Arthur scoffed. "That creature is nothing but trouble!"

"Yes, Tony." Alfred whined, "You need to stop being so harsh to him. I thought you supported mythical being rights or something."

"I am not even sure what sort of creature he is! And it is justified when every story you tell begins with you and Tony getting together ends in a way that I will not like!"

"Look, abridged version. There was Tony, a couple of girls and a street race…." Alfred smiled and leaned back against the pillows as the various fragments of memory came back to him of the evening's events. "I won, in case you were wondering. Anything else you want to know?"

Arthur blinked once and then twice. "That is by far the worst thing you could have given to me for an excuse!" he roared, enough for the few trying to listen in to flinch.

"Artie, what is the big deal?" Alfred raised an eyebrow at the shaking second. "This isn't even that bad. I doubt it even made headlines."

"My garden is more important than any embarrassing story the informant can gather on you." The queen hissed. "Do you know how long it will take to repair the damages you caused?"

"So? Why don't you magic up some replacements or something? Oh, wait…." Alfred laughed, "I guess you couldn't."

There were a great many things Arthur could tolerate or ignore to the best of his ability, however adding insult to his lack of magical abilities on top of destroying the precious garden he put so many hours into was not helping the situation any. Becoming uncharacteristically quiet, Arthur trained a serious glare down at the younger ruler. "Alfred, you know full well that magic does not work like that regardless of skill." He sighed and turned back towards the still open door as Alfred looked on curiously. "You have left me no choice," a pause for effect, "I will have to speak to the council."

The smile disappeared quickly from his face, but he fought to regain his cocky composure. "What do they have anything to do with this?" he managed to ask in a fairly calm voice.

"They have been highly critical of your actions and believe it reflects poorly on our nation if their king cannot conduct himself in a manner befitting his position." He glanced over his shoulder and would have almost felt pleased at how terrified the other's face was at the news that the real leaders of the country were not pleased with their figurehead. It would have been far more satisfactory if the roses had not suffered the consequences. "Until now I have been the one saying you would eventually outgrow this childish behaviour, but now I think I agree with them."

Hurried rustling as Alfred fought the blankets to escape his bed. "You can't be serious!" His feet hit the floor intent on chasing down the queen already part way down the hall. "What do they plan to do?"

Initially the plan to straighten him out involved cutting him off for a period of time, though the discussions always seemed to counter that Alfred had many friends with money, meaning it would likely not be enough to truly teach him any sort of lesson. For that reason, an improvement to their suggestion was made and it was time to fulfil it. "You will not have the same funds that you usually do," Arthur informed him and the expected pleading groan followed, "and you will be going on a diplomatic trip until we deem you fit enough to return to your duties here."

His steps slowed. "A trip? I make you mad and you're sending me on vacation?" Alfred's grin was back as he crossed his arms to watch Arthur's retreating back. "Where am I going? Diamonds have the best weather this time of year or Hearts with all those beautiful ladies…?"

"Clubs."

"Clubs?!" Alfred choked out, picking up the pace once again and trying to catch him before he made it too far down the hall. "Why there of all places?! There's nothing there and we don't even get along!"

"We are hoping that you will improve relations during your time away." Arthur threw back as he did not lose stride in his march, Alfred now a step or two behind. "You are to be on your best behaviour, if such a thing is possible for you."

Not one to give up the king matched the quickening pace. "No way they would agree to that! Especially the king…!"

"He already has." Arthur informed him, "He said if ever the time arose we would be welcome to send you there."

"He agreed?! Ivan agreed?!"

"Yes, Alfred." Arthur reached the doors at the end of the hall and pulled them open. "The when will be decided within a day or two." He stepped through and turned on his heel to stop the younger from following by pull the doors shut. "You should pack your bags."


	2. Chapter 2

The official decision was made relatively quickly and by that same afternoon, Alfred had received the order to prepare to leave before the dinner preparations had been started. He still fought and complained about the decision, though no one seemed willing to budge on it or even show him the slightest bit of sympathy. So grumbling he packed several large bags and left them piled in his room while the final details and transportation was sorted which only seemed to take slightly longer than the one that determined he should go.

When the time of his departure came Arthur and Yao saw him off, along with a number of the hired help and guards that stayed at their castle. Both of the court members were having no difficulties in producing cheerful smiles at seeing him carry a few personal items for the journey along with him and wishing him a pleasant trip while trying to keep their snickering to a minimum. Alfred glared at them each in turn and tapped the side of his glasses to activate the charm that darkened the lenses before trying to save what was left of his dignity as he got into the back of the auto destined to take him to the airship port. His personal guard got in beside him and to unnecessary enthusiastic waving, they pulled down the brick paved drive.

The journey through the city was shorter than he liked and he stared vacantly out the window for all of it. The older inner city was at one time completely surrounded by a great wall made of stone and several enchantments, though as the years and the cultures progressed it fell into disuse. The war with Hearts and their airships in the centuries previous had proved its defences ineffective, needing to be replaced by the underground system that currently ran haphazardly underneath the buildings. Only small sections of the great stone structure remained, the biggest of which that once held the main gate to the city, now remained as more of a tourist attraction than holding any real purpose. A swift highway travelled passed it and the gathered hordes of visitors likely did not notice who was passing by them in an official looking vehicle.

The traffic was thick as they moved to the newer portion of the capital. Away from the original buildings began newer streets at right angles of one another and in sensible rows. Once peace with Hearts had been temporarily achieved, the following years had seen massive growth outward in creating a structured city to hold more businesses, shops and homes. The population grew as well as people moved to join the city growing in industry. It felt as though it was consistently changing at times and there was always something new to find if you searched long enough.

It was with a groan of irritation that Alfred departed the auto and stood before the privately owned royal airship when they finally arrived. It stood in its own section beside the airfield used by the public and as he stretched his legs a little he watched as a commercial flight climbed vertically into the sky. His own transportation was being loaded with numerous supplies and fuelled for the journey. He put off boarding as long as he possibly could, but the inevitable caught up and he climbed the stairs to the passenger compartment.

No amount of luxury helped him for the hours of empty travel across an ocean, however. And while he sat bored and glaring out of his window, Alfred was left to only imagine what he could have been doing to the south in the Diamond kingdoms. Francis had always kind to him when they visited and he could just as easily be spending his banishment on a beach until everyone he had just left behind realised how much they missed him and begged him to return.

The true realisation of his situation hit as soon as the dark outlines of the mountains appeared on the horizon announcing their entry into Clubs territory. The cold hard rock and overcast skies were what welcomed the king, their bleak appearance a portrayal of the people that hid among the crags and called them home. He had briefly visited once shortly after his coronation though the visit would have been better described as his flying a safe distance past and refusing to leave his airship because of the cold.

They landed at the closest airship port which unfortunately was still over an hour's train ride from the capital itself. Despite the ability for the ships to make vertical landings they still needed enough flat ground to properly land which sparse and hard to find in the mountains. Alfred sniffed in contempt as he left the comfort of the Spade's vessel, pulling his coat tighter around him as he boarded the coach and took a seat. The entire train was warded with several deflection spells to prevent any attempts on his life by the mountains throwing rocks before they could start moving, all of which he ignored in favour of asking the cute stewardess to bring him something strong so he'd survive his first real look at the Club city.

There wasn't anything to look at out the windows while they travelled, most of the trip was through tunnels dug into the stone which likely saved time in the journey at the cost of scenery. It went far faster than he would have liked and before long he was catching glimpses of buildings clustered together. The train pulled into the final tunnel and an announcement was made that they would be pulling into the capital station.

Alfred stood, and stretched for the last few minutes, readjusting his coat and running his fingers through his hair to look more put together and less like he'd been traveling all day. An assistant also attempted to help smooth out a few of the wrinkles in his appearance right up until the train came to a halt at the station and the doors slid open.

Stepping out onto the smooth concrete platform of the underground station, Alfred kept his head up high and his forced smile into a comfortable and well-practiced grin. The air was hot and stale from the locomotives passing through the space with little circulation and after sitting in the comfortable cabins he had to stop himself from gasping. Sweat immediately began to trickle down his back beneath the many layers he had worn and made the short walk seem like a much further journey.

He wondered if Ivan felt stifled in his regal attire as he stood waiting calmly for him near a fleet of autos made for crossing heavy terrain. Bundled up in thick woollen coats, Alfred was sure the other must be suffocating but somehow appeared relaxed. Ivan smiled warmly, but Alfred knew better. Having practiced one of his own, he could spot a forced smile from a mile away. "Welcome, Alfred Jones," Ivan said smoothly, "It's nice to have you in the Clubs kingdom." Lies, all of it.

"Thanks for inviting me to stay." To outsiders, it would seem like they were old friends as they shook hands and Ivan swept a hand back to gesture to the autos, however, that was far from the truth. As Alfred nodded and slid into the back of the centre vehicle, he could tell Ivan detested the situation nearly as much as he did.

Once both kings were packed into the back and members of security filled the rest of the seats in the flanking autos, the envoy rolled towards the tunnel exit leaving behind staff to unpack Alfred's various luggage into a remaining vehicle. The Spades king rested his chin on his hand and looked out the window at his first real look at his temporary home for however long it took for his government to realise their mistake and take him back.

"How was your trip?" Ivan asked more out of politeness than general interest. Having been the reigning monarch for longer than Alfred, he was better able at keeping up politeness than his blonde counterpart.

"It was fine. Long," he complained, studying the cramped buildings they passed on their way through the capital. There weren't many streets that were wide enough for autos to pass through, something that wouldn't change without major reconstruction of the old city. War generally didn't reach the far off kingdom thanks to its rough habitat and meant that most buildings in the region had stood there for centuries longer than ones found in the other three.

"Our kingdoms are far…" Ivan mused quietly, folding his hands into his lap and looking out his own window. Many buildings were made of stone and brick seeing as they were the materials so readily available around them. It made the entire city seem dreary and sad in Alfred's opinion with so much grey around him on all sides.

The fleet of vehicles turned off the main road and followed a few narrower streets until they reached the base of one of the mountains that stood casting a shadow over the city. An iron gate blocked the roughly carved route up and they paused briefly until the men stationed there opened it to allow them through. From there on the journey was bumpy as they climbed the steep slope to the base of the castle. Alfred, as they went further upward, refused to look down and see how close they were from falling off the edge to their death. Instead, he kept his gaze on the lake that reflected the setting sun opposite the city of them to keep his mind off it.

The castle for the Clubs royalty was built partially into a large crevice in the mountain, leaving only the front that faced out that would need defending. It was a clever design really, Alfred remembered having been forced into studying the history of the other kingdoms as well as his own and hating it all tremendously. Something about how the road they had used to travel up was the only path and it bottlenecked armies that sought to take it over. That was until the invention of Heart's airships proved the design just as useless as the walls in his home country. He chuckled quietly that they had never seemed to upgrade their defences and felt ever more superior.

Just before reaching the main ledge that held the castle proper each auto was forced to squeeze through two taller pillars that were the remains of what once was the castle's portcullis. Hinges still clung to the crumbling forms and runic symbols for protection could faintly still be seen weathered down where they had been carved. In its day, it likely looked like an impressive and impenetrable feature, but not it gave Alfred the impression he was going to be forced to chop wood for a fire and eat meals by candlelight.

The Clubs castle was made primarily of blocky stone towers hidden behind a thick wall that closed off the hole that sunk into the mountain. They had utilized as much of the space available to them while building it, as the highest points of the roof scrapped the top of the crevice that hosted it. The stones had grown dark with age though were still maintained and taken care of, and numerous ledges held the dark forms of gargoyle-like monsters studying their approach with critical eyes.

Once the fleet came to a stop out front the next to hit him was the frigid cold that sunk in as soon as his door was opened. He pulled the jacket tighter around him, the sweat from earlier making him worse and tried to not dash for the front door or let his teeth chatter too loudly. He reminded himself he could have been sitting on a beach in Diamonds right about now, not freezing to death in Clubs.

Ivan acted as though he didn't feel the cold, making Alfred wonder if he felt the temperature at all after seeing him handle the heat in the train station just as effortlessly. "Come in," the Club king invited, leading the way for his guest up the steps and to the massive door. Alfred followed closely, flanked on all sides by various attendants and guards, glad to not be standing on formalities outside.

The large door lead into the foyer which was already a vast improvement to standing outside even with the doors still open. Once out of the biting wind, Alfred could start to feel warmth returning to his cheeks and fingers and he rubbed his hands together in what he half hoped appeared more as a gesture of eagerness to being shown around. Once everyone meant to be inside were in, the doors were shut and people began to move to their various places. Alfred's own security team went to speak with the royal guards that belonged to Ivan and his attendant was immediately taken in by the castle servants and made welcome.

Ivan didn't slow as he strode towards the connecting set of doors that would lead into the rest of the castle. The walls on either side bore large Club flags in deep forest green that stretched the length from floor to ceiling, meeting the equally green rug with royal insignia woven into its design. Men grabbed the metal handles that belonged to the following set of smaller doors and pushed them in to allow the royals into the great hall.

For what lack of colour there was on the outside of the building, it was made up for inside. Tapestries of rich colours and delicate designs filled most of the walls and what space remained was filled with oil paintings, blotting out the stone and wood that lay behind them. Dividers jutted out at regular intervals carved from a dark wood and filled with stained glass provided private alcoves with benches. Directly ahead of them a large staircase made of the same type of wood and polished until it shone rose to a pair of doors where behind surely royal offices were.

As Alfred continued to study the castle interior he tipped his head back as far as it would go, noting the painted ceiling hosting a scene where a group of mysterious figures appeared to be gathering around and peering down at them. He had only seen a painting like that before in one of the Diamonds' royal buildings though it really didn't surprise him; it was likely someone from Clubs that had painted that one too.

He wasn't sure how much time he spent staring at the various decorative pieces when he suddenly felt Ivan's eyes on him. Snapping his head back down to meet the other king's gaze he tried to regain his aloof regard to the castle. "Admiring the paintings?" Ivan remarked with a hint of amusement.

Alfred shrugged, pretending he hadn't been only a moment before. "They're alright."

"I'll show you to your room first. We held off having dinner until after you arrived." Any further comments that could have been made about Alfred's behaviour were ignored and Ivan continued leading him forward toward the grand staircase. "It'll be a small welcome for you staying with us."

Alfred nodded, falling into step behind him and sneaking glances whenever he found the chance at the decoration that thickly filled the room. Ivan strode with purpose, not slowing even as they ascended the stairs towards the upper floors and didn't look winded when they reached the top, something the Spade king wondered about as he attempted to mask his desire to pant by breathing heavily through his nose at having matched Ivan's pace. Beyond the doors, they followed several hallways that turned them back around and climbed a few smaller sets of stairs that rose in the centres of them. One or two servants bowed before scurrying about their duties but for the most part, they remained alone.

"You'll have the guest chambers." Ivan waved a hand at a set of doors ahead of them made of painted wood, designs carved into them of vines and flowers with twisted metal handles. "I'll send someone to collect you in 15 minutes."

"Thanks, Ivan." Alfred brushed past his host fully intending on freshening up after traveling all day. He was tired and grumpy as it was, but hopefully, after shedding his coat and washing his face, he'd feel like a slightly less irritable human being. And once he had a full stomach he could relax and sleep hidden away in his new room.

"Alfred," Ivan's firm hand grabbed his shoulder before he could get too far. "I will not have you causing trouble while you are here."

"Hey, don't go causing political incidents," Alfred half joked, half threatened. He threw a cool glare back and tried to brush the hand off. "Why'd you even agree to this?"

"Because I thought it would strengthen relations between our nations," Ivan growled and his grip squeezed into him. "And I didn't think they would actually send you."

That made him snort and he pried the other's fingers away. "Surprise! Here I am!"

"I am serious!" Alfred didn't spare a glance at him, instead waving his hand in a mocking manner as he made his way down the rest of the hall. "There will be consequences if you do."

"Oh, what will you do?" he asked dramatically. "Send me home?"

Ivan's lip curled. "I can come up with more creative punishments than that."

"Sure. Let me know when you do." Upon reaching the door, he yanked it wide and stepped inside. "See you at dinner."


	3. Chapter 3

Alfred had eventually decided to change his entire outfit in an attempt to look presentable. This was the compromise as he felt that the shower he wanted would have to wait until after the meal when he had more time to enjoy it. He had no sooner run a brush over his hair when a knock followed by the door being pushed open reached him. "Everyone is waiting on you," the servant sent to fetch him informed him lamely.

Setting the last of his items to freshen up with down, he walked back to the generous reception room that was a part of his quarters. The servant looked like a child to him, likely not aided by the crisp black and white suit he wore in making him looking like he was playing dress up in the castle. "Hey, kid," he greeted back, grabbing a set of cuff links out and beginning to fasten them.

The servant rolled his bored eyes. "Let's go." Leaving no room for discussion he turned and walked away abruptly, leaving Alfred to wonder how well liked the servant was with this kind of behaviour.

He caught up with the boy before he had reached the end of the first corridor and felt lucky that he had. How long would he have wandered in this Club trap before someone came and rescued him from a secret passage way? He eyed a decorative suit of armour with suspicion as ghost stories weighed on his mind. The castle was old and despite having been outfitted for modern times it still held a rustic feel.

"So, kid-"

"Emil…"

Alfred looked over at the servant, only half registering that he was given a name. His shoulders had hunched and his cool eyes stared ahead of them. "Don't call me 'kid'. It's annoying."

"Fine," the king shrugged. He wouldn't recall the name later as it was. "You know your way around here pretty well?"

The look that flashed his way was evident. Emil had silently deemed him to be stupid and refused to say anything more. Alfred's blue eyes rolled once Emil's gaze turned.

They turned in a different direction than how he had first come, following another hall and another until they arrived at a set of stairs and began to descend. He continued to ask the occasional question in regards to where certain doors and passages led and only receiving minimal responses. According to Emil half the doors were considered 'not important' and the remainder 'not for you.'

The feasting hall was nearly as lavishly decorated as the great hall was. The painting on the ceiling of this room was one of a collection of seemingly random panelled images and looked down onto the long table. He was the last to arrive, Ivan and his court waiting patiently beside their chairs as he emerged through the doorway and crossed to them. Emil gave a short nod in Ivan's direction and then promptly disappeared.

The empty place setting was to Ivan's right where he stood beside the head of the table. He smiled in forced pleasantry as Alfred took his seat, ignoring most normal polite protocol and making a vague gesture at his thanks. If that angered his host, he couldn't tell, but then again he was hardly looking. Across from him, the Queen of Clubs and the second to the throne smiled far easily as she sat with the Jack to her right. "It's nice to have you with us," she welcomed graciously with all the manners of a proper lady.

"Thanks, Elizaveta." The first of what would likely be several courses arrived and were presented in front of them. He had met the Clubs court several times in the past since when he had first been declared King. Elizaveta was often the one seen the most. On the outer surface, she appeared everything a member of nobility to be. Her hair fell in neat thick curls of deep brunette and her emerald-green dress was pressed and free of wrinkles. She set a napkin in her lap and picked up the correct utensil. Supposedly this woman's interests were in the military and she met with generals daily. It made Alfred wonder in what capacity she was meeting with them.

Her husband only nodded in silent welcome when Alfred's eyes swept to him. Normally he and Roderich would have met far more often, the jacks being the more likely emissaries to foreign kingdoms than the king or queen, though it was often said that dragging the jack from his home was near impossible.

Ivan took control of the conversation, gazing steadily at their guest as he enjoyed his meal. "We were discussing before you came in that you hadn't spent much time here before." Alfred doubted highly that was really the topic of their discussion before his arrival, but he allowed them to play it out. "We can show you around the various things we have to offer. There are many pleasant sights here."

The snicker at the words could not be easily masked, and Alfred made no attempt to. "I'm sure they are pleasant what you might have to offer."

The king and queen wore equally pained grins as they forced their faces to not show their frustration at his words. Their stalled hands clenched their silverware beneath white fingers in the space between the table and their mouths. Only Roderich showed any unveiled disgust as his face puckered and he returned to his dinner with aloof disinterest for him. The jack would not be any fun to tease.

"You should still give them a chance," Elizaveta managed out through her clenched jaw, her tone one of heavily suggested agreement. The spoon she held looked far more dangerous than it normally would.

"Fine," he relented, holding his hands up in surrender with no meaning behind it. "I can't wait to see what you have to offer."

And for the next few courses he enjoyed watching royals describe what activities he had to look forward to during his stay. Everything sounded less than appealing, but he attempted some fashion of feigned interest. His general impression was most of the trip would include plays and concerts, art gallery viewings and a tour of the cathedral in the city centre. Standard amusements of a nation heavily rooted in the arts. The only suggestions for amusement he considered was one where Elizaveta invited him to join the castle guard for a bit of sparing and when Ivan baited him into agreeing to climbing a nearby mountain because it was only for the strong and the Club king raised an eyebrow and gave a smug smile at Alfred's physique as he said it.

When at last the dessert was served Ivan turned to discussing how things were run within his castle. "Breakfast is served at 8," he informed him, glancing up from his treat to gauge his guest's reaction, "If you miss it you have to wait until lunch is served at 1 for something to eat."

"You always this stiff?" said Alfred, already pleased with the rise his words were stirring out of the other king.

"Everyone here has things to do. I will not have my entire staff drop their duties to wait on you." His eyes flashed and every muscle in his body had tensed. "You will learn to accommodate the schedule or you will not eat."  
Ivan was worse than Arthur in his opinion, Alfred thought quietly while nodding to agree to the terms. Eventually though, like Arthur, he would find a way to wear the king down to allow him whatever leisure he desired.

After a breath to collect himself and finishing off the last morsel on his plate, Ivan set his utensil down signalling the conclusion of dinner and causing those responsible for the kitchens to begin to clear away the table. "Emil will be the one to look after you. You can ask him if you require anything."

At mention of his name, Emil reappeared through the doorway they had come earlier looking none at all pleased about the arrangement. Alfred doubted that this servant would even bring him anything if he said he needed it. Likely Ivan's doing to allow him to use a servant like that.

And when Ivan rose to his feet, Alfred remained where he was even if Roderich looked at him disapprovingly from where he stood opposite the table. "I am retiring. Goodnight." He nodded warmly to his queen and jack and turned a cold eye to Alfred to nod at him. The queen and jack left as well, hands held and whispering quietly with eat other as they headed for the same stairwell he had come through. And when he was the last one at the table, Alfred turned to Emil.

"So, you're going to make sure I don't get lost?"

Emil simply led the way back to his suite.

All his luggage had arrived and been unpacked into his room, solidifying that this was going to be his residence for a period of time. From his door was a large sitting area. Comfortable couches surrounded low tables for him to complete work on, assuming he would do such a thing, or entertain guests around. The rug that completely covered the floor was thick and warm to his feet as he kicked off his shoes and continued to next room.

His bed chamber was the next largest room. A massive bed still managed to fill a percentage of the room and he looked to it longingly as he began to pull off layers, dropping them as he crossed to open closets and drawers looking for his belongings. Discovering a soft pair of lounging pants he easily removed what was left and slipped them on, grateful for the freedom from starched shirts and ties. He paused momentarily to look out the sole window from his bedroom to see the lights of the valley city far below. This late there seemed to only be a few street lamps on and was void of any nightlife as he knew it at home.

Sending a quick message to his closest friends about the torture he was about to endure, Alfred collapsed into the bed and was asleep within minutes.

* * *

 _(AN: Thank you everyone who has sent comments and for the general reception for this fic. These first few chapters have been up on my DeviantArt account for some time and has been pretty well ignored so I was giving up on it somewhat when I decided to post it here. I'm planning on working on this one more alongside my own original work so I'm hoping to keep updating and that it continues to entertain everyone with the same praise that I'm not sure it is truly worthy of.)_


	4. Chapter 4

Alfred didn't wake up until after ten.

Vaguely he could recall a knock at the door and the time may have been around eight in the morning, but he had merely groaned and fallen back asleep. When he did decided to rise, he felt refreshed and ready to begin. He started by taking the shower he had forgone the night before and followed it by picking out a simple outfit to start the day. With the entire process completed it was about eleven when he emerged from the guest suite, his stomach rumbling as he did so.

There were a few people roaming the halls as he made his way down each one trying to recreate the trip he had made the night before. Staff, each dressed cleanly, nodded at his presence, a bright Clubs pin affixed to their collars indicating their loyalty and continued on their way without a word. To the ones he found cute he gave a cheeky grin, dismayed that none seemed to reciprocate anything flirtatious back. Apparently everything in this country was made of stone and ice.

Somehow he ended up finding the main staircase that lead into the great hall which he took seeing that it likely would make it easier to find food than continuing to circle the upper floors. A few of his guards were sat on a bench in the ornate room with several of Ivan's men joking about something that had happened that morning. He waved to them who all greeted him with some degree of honour for his title and went back to their conversation quickly, laughing loudly as Alfred continued to walk towards an arched opening. From here on he felt he could guide himself with his nose to find the kitchens.

As he neared this room he could hear the chatter of the cooks, the clanking of pots being cleaned. And standing in front of the door way were two of Ivan's soldiers.

"Morning!" he waved cheerful as he had done so far today and went to make his way past the men only to find them blocking his path.

"No can do, your highness." The one wearing a wide grin informed him. "Ivan's orders are you're not allowed in here."

Alfred scowled back though neither guard seemed too bothered by this. "I'm King. And I'm hungry."

Both refused to move "That probably works where you're from, but here we only follow one man's orders." The fingers on one hand indicated to his own bright green club pinned to his tan uniform while the other rested on his belted hip holding whatever instrument the guard likely favoured for protection in the castle. He couldn't see it to be sure if it was a gun or a baton. "You'll have to take that up with him."

Alfred tried switching his glare from the soldier that spoke to him to his partner, but the silent cold stare he was being given from the taller man made him switch back quickly. "Fine. Where's Ivan? I'd like to have a chat with him."

"I'll take you there." Ducking out of the kitchens from behind the soldiers came Emil, dressed in a suit much like the one he had worn the day before. He didn't look any less annoyed at having to lead Alfred around to wherever he wanted to go today which suited Alfred fine as he stalked after the kid feeling much the same and ignoring how the one soldier, the only speaking one, cheerfully waved as they left.

They climbed the stairs near the dining hall giving Alfred an extra chance to try and map out where he was within the castle. Then to a new hallway that led to a large wooden door which Emil knocked sharply on and then stuck his head through the gap. "He's here."

Alfred didn't wait for Ivan to invite him in. Pushing past the servant and shoving the door open he marched across the green patterned rug and straight up to the desk towards the back of the circular office room. "What are you playing at?"

From behind him he could hear the sounds of Emil closing the door and leaving what was about to happen in the King's office between the two royals, but Alfred didn't much care even if the kid stayed to witness. Ivan reacted slowly, putting down the papers he was working on and tidying up his desk. Alfred growled at having to wait. "Will you answer me?"

When he was finished, Ivan folded his hands in front of him and laid them on top of his things. "Do you have a problem with something?"

"Yeah, I have a problem." Alfred stood tall in front of the desk, his arms crossed and head lifted to appear larger. It would only work until the other rose from his seat, but in the heat of the moment it failed to cross his mind. "You've got two guards stationed outside the kitchens that won't let me in."

That fact brought a smile to Ivan's face. "I knew I could count on Matthias and Berwald."

Leaning forward, the Spades king braced himself on the other man's desk. "You are deliberately trying to sabotage me."

"As I informed you last night," Ivan continued calmly, ignoring Alfred's threatening bodily language, "Breakfast is served at eight. If you miss it, you have to wait until one because I do not want you to disrupt the staff."

"I wouldn't be disrupting the staff!" Alfred hissed. "I just want a snack!"

"The people in the kitchen are very busy." Ivan's gaze was kept cool and steady as he looked unflinching into Alfred's relentless gaze. "They do not need you poking your nose into their business. I do not even go in there while they are working."

"But I'm starving!" Alfred tried again, this time with a more definitive whine.

Ivan shook his head and looked back down at his desk, seemingly bored with this conversation. "It would take you another two weeks to starve. Perhaps longer."

Blinking, the younger king fell back into one of the chairs situated to look at the desk. A childish pout formed on his face as he tried to consider his options. Ivan was busy marking something with his pen and didn't lift his head as he spoke. "If you think that display of foolish behaviour will get you anything, you are very wrong."

"What the hell is your deal?" Alfred spat. "I could declare war on your country!"

"No you couldn't." Ivan informed him. "Your parliament does that."

"Well, I…" he fought to counter, "I could tell them to do it. Tell them about how you wouldn't let me eat and kept me locked up. They'll believe me!"

Ivan's bored gaze drilled into him, his hand stalled above a freshly written sentence. "How old are you?"

"19. Why?"

The other's head dropped back to the page before him. "Perhaps you could act like it."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"When I was 19, I was settling a dispute between companies and their workers, was the benefactor for a new wing at the royal hospital, and I hosted the bi-annual kingdom ball which you would remember if you had chosen to attend." Alfred refused to react to the list, keeping his frown firmly in place as Ivan leaned back in his chair from having bragged to him about his many accomplishments. He wouldn't be baited so easily into the same trick Arthur always tried to use on him. "That is of course not counting the numerous appearances I make to various events to check up on and meet some of my people. I take my job and my title very seriously."

"And what do you want? A cookie for being so good?" It was a poor choice of words, as at the mere thought of food his stomach growled in dismay.

Ivan finally lost his carefully built composure as his hands tightened into fists. "Who were you before this?"

"You mean before I was kidnapped and dragged into the castle to be declared king?"

"Before your Ace chose you." Ivan corrected, temper still flared. "In your country, the king changes their name, do they not?"

Alfred weighed his options before answering and honestly saw no real harm in it. He hadn't been anybody before he became king. "I was Alfred Williams."

"And everyone on the throne changes their name to Jones," the other filled in to Alfred's nods of affirmation. "So who was this Alfred Williams?"

"What does it matter?" He settled back on his seat, his usual cocky attitude stuck firmly back into place. There was little in his life before he moved into his current home and title and anything prior to the day he first entered the palace gates was generally forgotten. "I was chosen when I was five. _Five_. Not a whole lot of shaping occurred before I was sat on a throne."

"I was trying to understand how you managed to become this arrogant!" Ivan said. To someone like him, to serve his country in this capacity was a great honour and he truly believed he was doing some good. Alfred played over the speeches he had heard so many times before then about it.

Alfred set his jaw. How anyone was expected to keep up an argument on an empty stomach was beyond him. "I guess you'll have to keep wondering about it. Now about food…"

"One o'clock." Ivan repeated, dipping his head back down signalling no more room for discussion. Alfred opened and snapped his jaw shut seeing it was not a fight he could win, at least for today. "Fine. Fine!" And with that he stormed from the office, slamming the door behind him as he went and causing Emil to sneak his way back to the kitchens to report what he heard to the guards still stationed there.

At precisely one the royal Club's court filed into the dining room to find Alfred waiting in his seat, head resting on the table. He didn't look up as they took their places, giggling at the sulking child.


	5. Chapter 5

It took a few days, but Alfred finally felt he was falling into the new routine of being to breakfast at precisely eight in the morning. Today he didn't yawn, prop his head on an elbow or complain about the time. Well, he still found cause for complaint, but even so it was a vast improvement as he ate quickly, excited to get to the planned morning activity.

Today he had been offered to join Elizaveta with the royal guard in the courtyard and he was ready to show all of them what he was made of. He couldn't stop the massive grin on his face at the prospect of it and it had Ivan raising an amused brow at him. "You look eager to train with the men."

"I'm looking forward to some action instead of sitting around here all day," he shot back straightening up in his chair. Little did Ivan know he had been in fights before, but would always come out on top thanks to a little extra magic tattooed onto his back. Several runes had been engraved upon the skin as a safety precaution earlier in his teens if he was ever attacked and would need to be able to defend himself or his country. The second wasn't one he ever planned on using. Mostly he used the strength they provided to show off. It was a marvellous party trick and he thrilled friends by secretly activating it and then moving someone's auto.

Ivan continued to chuckle as he ate. "Perhaps I will watch this morning. Roderich?" he asked third person at their table. "Would you like to join me? I think it a nice day for hot drink and watching a little sparring."

Roderich paused in his meal, closed his eyes and drew in a slow breath. "I think I can postpone my morning schedule." And with that decided he nodded to Ivan and resumed his meal.

"Perfect," Ivan smiled wider and looked over to Alfred who rolled his eyes back at him. If spectators wanted to gather to see his triumph then he wouldn't stop them.

Elizabeta wasn't seen at breakfast which was a fairly normal occurrence. Often the queen would spend her mornings with the guards before they began their routines. With the meal concluded the three royals made their way to the courtyard, Ivan waving a hand to indicate the group gathered in orderly lines. Alfred didn't waste any time in proudly strutting his way over.

A brisk wind blew over the stonewall the lined the open end of the cavern holding the Club castle, but also provided a shield as stronger, colder winds whistled just on the other side of it. Beneath his feet the ground had been laid with smooth stone bricks paving an even surface that connected all of the little buildings enclosed in the cavity and contrasted the natural rough ceiling of the mountain above them. A tower and barracks rose against the far wall to peek over and offer defence. Behind him the dining hall spilled out away from the rest of the castle, taking up the precious space with its outwardly ornate beauty.

All of this was lost on him as his eyes focused only on the company ahead.

Among the men standing to receive orders he spotted Mathias and Berwald who were regularly in charge of making sure he didn't get into the kitchens. He had made a point to remember their names in order to complain about it at length with the messages he sent home. Mixed in with the company were the few men that had joined him in traveling to Clubs. An older man stood to the front barking the routine they would be following and standing beside him he suddenly realised as he drew nearer was Elizabeta. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a tight high ponytail and the regal dress she often wore was exchanged for the uniform the guards standing around her were similarly clad in.

The commander finished his orders as Alfred made it up to the group and acknowledged the king with as much curtesy as foreign military veteran could spare and gave the invitation to join with a sweep of his arm to the front. Alfred thanked him as he walked past, catching Elizabeta who was smiling at seeing him move to stand in an open space at the front.

They began with some calisthenics which Alfred had no trouble keeping up with, even going as far as proving a point by doing a few extra push ups. Any signs of anyone present being impressed was not clear, but that didn't damper his enthusiasm. Following that began some training techniques. Today was focused primarily on a weapon traditionally used in the Clubs and likely the reason why the queen had extended the invitation. Alfred had never handled a swordstaff before and it felt awkward in his hands when someone presented a blunted wooden version of what he treated as a long handled sword. Testing it with a few practice swipes gained him some extra room as those around him sidestepped away.

When the routines had been completed the man at the front called them all to order again. "I think we all know what we're really hoping to see today." There was some chatter behind Alfred and his smug grin spread even further. The man called out two names to get them started and everyone wasted no time to get into positions.

The company formed a ring around two soldiers chosen as the combatants and they cheered for them sparing in the centre. Alfred found himself cheering for whomever looked like they were winning, except for the rounds where Matthias and Berwald stepped in. Then he cheered for the other man only to find himself disappointed and slightly sullen at seeing them victorious.

Some of his men held their own with the unfamiliar weapon for a short time, but the rest lost quickly and soundly with lack of experience. With each loss Alfred bristled, the only one to do so as those who had just been fighting helped each other up, shook hands, and laughed.

After the men all had a turn Elizabeta stepped into the middle and fixed her eyes on Alfred. "Think you can take me?"

The King of Spades would never back down from this sort of challenge and he stepped forward easily hearing the 'oh!'s of her men mixing with a few calls of encouragement from his own. He stood toe to toe with the woman, needing to tilt his chin down to look at her properly. She stared back unfazed by the height difference, her green eyes narrowed and a small confident smirk on her lips. Alfred was looking forward to showing them he wasn't just a pretty face.

Behind them Ivan and Roderich sat in comfortable chairs that had been brought out for them and sipped their drinks as spectators. "How long do you think it will take your wife to win?"

Roderich blushed at the question and tried to hide it behind his cup of coffee. "I do not doubt her. She's been training with the guard her entire life."

"I wasn't questioning that," Ivan laughed, "I was only trying to guess if this morning would be the first time Alfred had fought someone who didn't let him win."

Back within the circle the two had been handed their weapons and had begun to circle each other. With unique practiced grace, Elizabeta twirled hers around her arms, bringing it to rest in a ready stance in front of her. Alfred merely gripped the elongated shaft with both hands, lifted the mock weapon above his head and rushed at her.

Elizabeta neatly smacked the staff end against his stomach.

Doubled over, one hand rubbing at the smarting spot, Alfred turned to find her again. Other than standing in a different place nothing else had changed in her posture. He glared and replaced his hands around the swordstaff. This time he ran towards her with it held at his waist, thrusting it forward and swinging to the side to follow her. It missed. He tried once more swinging wildly back the way he had come and was bolded by the resulting crack from her block. He lifted it over his head to deal a final blow and was once again struck, this time to his left leg and then she was too far out of reach again.

Furious, Alfred activated the runes on his back.

If he wasn't wearing a shirt everyone behind him would have noticed straight away the dark ink design that stretched across his shoulder blades and narrowed to a point that disappeared just below the waistband of his pants gradually begin to glow a faint light blue. Without it, they were all left clueless as he ran forward again, his strikes coming steadily harder forcing his opponent to abandon blocking for parries and leaping out of the way entirely. Still, despite the sudden surge in strength Alfred had yet to hit her but she was still toying with him and finding openings to strike and ensure a number of bruises would be found later on.

When the runes reached their full potential and he was still no closer to his victory Alfred roared and snapped his weapon in two between his hands like a twig and threw the useless wood splinters to the sides.

Everything shifted. Men switched their cheers to worried shouts, unsure whether to step in and stop the fight or allow it to continue and possibly risk their queen. Elizabeta's smirk was wiped from her face and she took several steps back, readjusting her stance and calculating her next move. Roderich's cup smashed on the stones as he rose to his feet only seconds ahead of Ivan, he face set grim as well.

Alfred heard nothing over the roar of magic-infused adrenaline in his own ears. His vision blurred around the edges with a light blue hue and his steps turned deliberate and heavy as he strode after her. His heart was racing and with it the thrill of what he could achieve in this state. Run miles, or climb mountains? Anything was possible.

He balled his hands into fists and swung. Recognizing the danger of being struck by his blow, the queen ducked and rolled to get out of the way. She was forced to move again right after as Alfred didn't slow his assault. One strike collided with stone sending cracks through it where Elizabeta had been a second before and the vibration of it could be felt through their feet.

A guard stepped forward, he wasn't sure who, and tried to grab his arm. Alfred tossed him back to the others. More shouting. Ivan was halfway across the gap between the gathering and the castle. Elizabeta's stance changed. She swung with force at his joints. An elbow, shoulder, wrist and she had stopped his attacks. A knee and Alfred went to the ground.

Elizabeta's heel drove into his chest forcing him backwards and she pressed the wooden sword edge to his throat and panting, declared with an order, "I win."

The runes' power ebbed gradually leaving him to lay stunned on the cold damp floor, unblinking. "Grats, I guess…" He held up his open palms.

She held there another minute, her eyes narrowed and searching his face before standing up and offering a hand. "You cheated. We were meant to spar with our weapons."

He took it, despite his face feeling too warm at having been knocked on his ass by a girl. "All's fair in war, right?"

Elizabeta shook her head, but smiled despite herself. Sweat had stuck her hair to her face and the back of her neck. "If you ever want to lose again, come find me." She shook his hand in a show of no hard feelings. "Or if you actually want to learn how to fight I could teach you a thing or two."

"Sure thing." His vision momentarily swayed, an after effect of using his magical strength at full power, and felt incredibly hungry and in need of a rest. "At least you didn't hit my face. Would hate to have paparazzi gain images of that." He laughed while she rolled her eyes and walked over to where Roderich was waiting, his hands knotted tightly together where any conversation they had was too soft to overhear.

"Sorry about that, Will" he called to the guard he had shoved before. Those who he had been thrown into were still getting each other to their feet. They joked another minute and Alfred turned to find Ivan giving him the ugliest of glares. One hand was gripped tightly around a long golden staff holding a large pink tourmaline gem. Frost spread out from the soles of his feet on the paved stones around him and tiny crystals clung to the hem of his coat.

"I think I will head back in," Alfred announced loudly, not surprised when Ivan stepped in beside him and matched his leisurely speed.

"I will accompany you." The glare was gone, his face returned to a neutral calm that Alfred also mimicked. Generally speaking, royals wouldn't divulge disagreements in front of anyone else, but he knew they were about to exchange a few angry words.


	6. Chapter 6

Ivan wasted no time once the door was shut to Alfred's suite. "What did you think you were doing?" His eyes flashed and the skin around his face flushed pink. It would have been a frightening sight if he hadn't grown used to the angry tirades of Arthur nearly his entire life and instead felt mostly indifferent.

Alfred shrugged. "We were duelling and I wanted to win."

The mesmerising end of Ivan's staff was pointed at him, making his eyes automatically follow the pink gemstone as it swayed from side to side conducting Ivan's words. "You could have hurt someone! That was a dangerous and irresponsible for someone of your stature to do against a royal of a foreign nation! Think what could have happened if you had injured her, or worse! It could have destroyed any good will we had and might have even been interpreted as an act of war!"

"Pretty sure she injured me more."

"Stop! Stop being self-serving for five minutes to see how reckless that was!"

Alfred did as he was told, quieting his voice and pretending to give it some serious thought. Ivan was breathing heavily, his pants magnified in the absence of shouting. As the time stretched he lowered his arm letting the staff rest on the floor beside him as he waited for a response.

Five minutes was too long, so after precisely two Alfred opened his mouth. "But I didn't even hit her."

With a cry of frustration, Ivan pounded his staff on the floor once making ice radiate out, climbing the nearby walls and furniture. It forced Alfred to jump back to avoid his feet getting caught in the frozen wave. "You are the most selfish brat I have ever met! I regret agreeing to have you come stay here."

"Does that mean that you'll send me back home?" Alfred asked, hopes high. He took a step forward, his toes coming dangerously close to the outwardly creeping ice.

"No, unfortunately," Ivan grumbled, spitting out the last word as though it left his mouth bitter. He raised the staff and spread his fingers, the weapon disappearing in a flash but leaving the cold to reside around them. To Ivan it didn't appear to affect him, but Alfred was starting to shiver in short rapid bursts as he fought his own body against the display of weakness. "We are trying to strengthen our ties between the nations and sending you home so soon would look poorly on our parts."

"Not really," Alfred admitted, "I'm willing to bet they'd understand you for wanting to kick me out. Might even congratulate you on lasting this long."

The humour was lost to the Club king whose face fell flat with the joke. "You can't even stay serious through one conversation unless it gets you what you want."

"What I want right now is to eat something and check the places where the woman whose life I supposedly threatened hit me with a stick." He grabbed the edges of his shirt and started lifting it over his head. "You want to stay and keep yelling at me like I haven't heard this same argument my entire life? Be my guest."

"You can wait until lunch," Ivan reminded him and Alfred fought to roll his eyes, failing miserably. Of course the precious rules regarding the kitchens had to be maintained. As he went to toss the garment on a chair he winced, holding his side where he could feel a welt beginning to form.

"What's wrong?" Ivan's question felt more a demand than out of curiosity.

"Probably going to have a massive bruise here." He carefully peeled his fingers away to look at the irritated mark on his ribs. At which stage during the course of their fight he had received this particular strike he couldn't recall, but he suspected it was when he was near or at full strength and their fight became more serious. But from the way that it ached he suspected to see it turn dark the following day.

"Let me see." Ivan was suddenly beside him, holding his arm out of the way while he too looked at it, which did not improve his temperament in the slightest. "It doesn't look bad. I suppose you will live."

"No, you think so?" An unwanted hand touched his side and he let out a shriek. "Why the fuck are your hands that cold?"

"Cold is good for these sorts of things. It will help with the swelling." No matter how much he squirmed, Ivan's hand stayed where it was, gradually forming from his palm into a fine layer of frost that hovered just above his skin.

While it lasted only for an awkward minute, Alfred was quick to jump away from Ivan's clutches as soon as the Club king's grip began to loosen. Throwing his arm over his head in order to twist his body to observe what had been done to him he poked at the magic, shivering as he did so.

Ivan's hand dropped to his side. "That should help."

Alfred tilted his head up, blinking as he remained cautious. "What did you do that for?"

"To help," he replied with a sigh. "Contrary to what you think I don't want you to suffer while you are here."

Despite his best efforts, he was struggling to conjure up the anger he had felt before. Alfred looked once more between the other king and what had been done and turned to fetch something clean to put on over the top of it with as much aloofness as he could muster. "It's too cold."

Ivan grumbled and headed for the door. "I will see you at lunch."

At midday they sat and ate, Alfred taking nearly double as he fell on the food served with a ferocity that had made Roderich's nose wrinkle. Ivan watched the display with a pleasant smile, but his eyebrows would rise faintly with every helping added to Alfred's plate.


	7. Chapter 7

"Wake up."

Alfred groaned, but did follow the order and opened his eyes, surprised when it was Ivan he saw leaning over him. "What...?"

"We're going out. If we leave now we won't need as much security." Ivan was pacing around his room, his personal space, and he was still far too sleep deprived to understand why. He made several vague noises in attempts to express his confusion and finally managed enough of a phrase to be understood. "Where going…?"

Ivan had his cupboard open and was pulling items out. "Into the mountains. Here, you'll want to wear something warm." He threw several articles at him and moved on to another location. "It'll take a few hours to get where we are going. You know how to ride, don't you?"

"Ride?" Alfred shifted the shirts and jackets that had landed on him and rubbed at his eyes. "Like, a horse?"

Ivan gave him a look. "Yes, horses. You did learn how to in your country?"

"Well, yeah. Arthur said I had to learn." He shrugged. "I took a couple lessons and then started using the time to hang out with the stable boys."

When he looked up he caught Ivan's sly grin. "You hold many secrets, Alfred Jones."

"Not like that!" He threw a thick pair of socks back, aiming for Ivan's head but missing completely. "They were just cool and… normal."

Ivan paused long enough to inhale and then switched on the lights. It was a wonder only a few came running at the sound of Alfred's screaming.

Even with the early hour, they were soon both walking out of the still dark castle and heading around the back of the mountain it inhabited. The air was cold, forcing Alfred to tuck his chin into the thick scarf that had been lent him so it would be out of the wind that blew harsh across the rock face. Only two men were accompanying them today, a drastic change to always being watched. Each was laden with a pack of necessary items and they set off before much of the city had woken.

A winding path was cut out before them, broadened over time to a accommodate travellers from the castle. Ivan led the way with Alfred keeping pace despite his drowsiness. Curiosity drove him forward more than anything else as he had been told almost nothing about their destination. The path came to an end beside a large wooden stable. It may have been his imagining, but Ivan seemed to speed up as they came closer to it.

The latch to stables was large, wooden, and unlocked and Ivan threw it up to slide the door open. An even colder blast of air hit Alfred in the face, freezing the inside of his nose as he drew his next breath. He rubbed a glove over it, shielding what little warmth was left as he followed the Club king inside. Stomping and snorts came from the open stalls while snow lightly sprinkled down from the dark recesses of the ceiling. A grey head stuck out of one, sniffing at Alfred. He lightly pat its nose, but the horse began whinnying and shaking its head.

"You should leave Molly alone," Ivan warned. "She bites when she has not been fed her breakfast."

Alfred quickly withdrew his hand and caught up to the stall Ivan was throwing open and cooing lovingly to its occupant. "Inei, I brought you a treat. And you'll get another after your hard work."

Inei was a stocky grey pony with dapples still present on her flanks. Her muzzle had found a way inside his bag nearly as soon as Ivan had stepped inside and he was laughing and trying to push her back. "Wait! You must wait for me to get it for you!" Managing to barely pull her head out, he fished out an apple and held it out to her on the flat of his palm. It was gone in seconds, replaced by her satisfied crunching.

Now that things seemed to calm, Alfred stepped up to the door. "I guess she likes you."

Ivan smiled, running his hands across her back. "Have you ever seen our native snow ponies?" Alfred shook his head.

"I'll be taking Inei. She knows me very well. I think for our trip you should ride Roderich's. His name is Hans and you will have to keep a good hold of him or he'll eat anything along the trail." Ivan threw a cheeky grin over his shoulder. "He reminds me a bit of you."

A sleepy stable worker came scurrying out to help them gather the tackle for their horses. Alfred was shown to Hans' stall where the darker grey gelding had his head hung over his empty trough. As he walked in his eyes rolled just enough to see that he did not come in with a bucket and sigh. He patted the gelding's shoulder. "I know how you feel, buddy."

Four ponies left at easy walks along a small trail less than an hour later. The sun had begun to rise, still unseen behind the jagged mountain landscape but the light escaped signalling it would soon appear. Alfred shifted in his seat, trying to find the most comfortable position as they fell into a single file line, Ivan and Inei taking the lead.

"How far are we going?" Alfred called ahead. Even to him, out here it sounded too loud and he was sure distantly he heard the phrase repeat back to him from another mountain.

Ivan turned full around in his seat with an unreadable face. "You'll see." After a moment, that Alfred felt included a silent order, he faced forward.

The pace was slow, nearly excruciating. Hans would often drag his feet and walked with his head bent. When a rare shrub struggled out of the rocky soil for light, the pony would be quick to try to snag the leaves in his mouth as they passed. Otherwise he was a docile animal, and the reins were held lose as he followed Inei without any needed direction, even as the small path began to broaden into a wider used road. With the increase in space his gelding automatically walked to the left of Ivan's mare as they continued to climb to a large plateau.

When the sun could be fully seen and the terrain levelled out Ivan finally spoke. "There is a lake ahead. Shall we see who arrives there first?"

Alfred jutted out his chin at Ivan's smug face. "What do I get if I win?"

He hummed. "I suppose you will not be getting anything today." Then the two took off.

Not to be out done, Alfred clicked his tongue and dug in his heels. Hans' sides expanded in a dramatic sigh and with great effort he worked his way to a slow trot. With more prodding and encouraging they made it up to a gallop, finally slowing the gap between the two kings. He hunched forward, eyes trained on the hem of Ivan's green coat as it flapped taunting at him. The gap began to shorten in miniscule increments.

In summer the terrain here would be green, perhaps filled with flowers. Now it sported browned stems, brittle from a snap of cold that signalled more to come. Alfred could see the gleam of frost left behind in the hoof imprints as he raced forward. The plateau was large and it took several minutes before the reflection of the sun could be seen to prove Ivan hadn't been lying about a lake. He tried to urge his ride faster and found a rhythm that kept him from sliding off the animal's back.

The shoreline was in clear view when he pulled alongside Ivan, flashing a wild grin his way. The Club king laughed and urged his mare forward. Together they sped towards the water, their guards left far behind. The wind buffeted his face, but he ignored it, refusing the distraction needed to pull his scarf back up. Instead the chill made it that more exciting.

He was so focused that the lake came up fast. Too fast. In a panic, he pulled back on the reigns, willing Hans not throw him into the frigid water. He yelled, Hans whinnied in protest, and both slid to a messy stop several feet from the smooth surface. Ivan streaked past, nearly a blur, out over the lake. Ice formed beneath the pony's hooves and floated in an icy trail behind her keeping them from sinking into the cold water.

Alfred watched Inei slow, turning a wide circle to come back to them with her triumphant rider at an easy trot. Hans was already head down searching for the last shreds of edible green, uncaring about any sort of competition.

"I won!" Ivan grinned, and even his mare seemed to toss her head in pleasure at seeing Alfred's sulking facial expression.

"How was I supposed to know they could do that?" he protested.

"A book, for starters. A number of documentaries on snow pony magic. Or that enormous painting of a herd freezing a pond in the grand hall."

Alfred gave him a rude gesture, and as the guards finally caught up to them he tapped his heels and ventured out after him. They travelled at a jog, Alfred bringing Hans back to Ivan's side and laughed besides himself when he leaned around Hans' shoulder at the water under them. Despite the early waking hour and the cold, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much simple fun. He asked as many questions he could about the beasts they rode on, what sort of magic they used and how well they fared in other climates.

At the other side of the lake, the land rose sharply and they picked their way up the jagged sides following what must have been paths meant only for goats. At times he wondered if they would make it to wherever they were headed, if their steeds would be able to find footholds. Without warning Ivan suddenly stopped and ordered him to dismount.

Alfred looked around. Where they were was not particularly remarkable, more of the same dark rocks and stubborn grasses. The sun was high overhead and he guessed they had ridden for hours, missing breakfast and maybe even lunch at this point. He slid out of his saddle, landing hard on the ground and instantly finding how sore his legs were. His grimacing face sent Ivan into a fit of giggles. "Follow me. This way."

A guard took the reins from him and he started after the other king, up a small jagged outcropping. The wind was stronger up here and the grade steep. Despite the cold he was unzipping his jacket to allow in some air. When Ivan scrambled over the edge he was relieved to see his guide stop moving. Breathing hard in the thin air he followed suit, hefting himself to an open clearing and straightening his back in a deep stretch.

He whistled. Below them he could make out the valley containing the capital city hidden in between some of the mountains. It looked still and quiet from this distance, though if he had to guess that at this point in the day the streets were packed with people and vehicles. "I wish I could send a picture of this to some of my friends." Mostly to show them the view, but also to prove to them that he had managed the trek to the top.

Ivan nodded. "You could call them. I know some of your people have wanted updates on you."

Alfred considered it. He found it hard to believe Arthur might have checked up on him as he imagined the older royal happy to be free of him. Similarly with his jack, Yao, he expected the rest of the court were spending their time quietly with their favourite hobbies. "There's no rush."

"I wanted to show you the view, but also wanted some privacy." Alfred tilted his head, a confused frown on his face. Ivan was still admiring the view and had gone quiet. A minute passed and he went to open his mouth and demand an answer when Ivan's staff appeared in a flash to rest in his right hand.

Alfred jumped back. "How does that do that?!"

Ivan smiled at him. "Attack me."

"What?"

"You heard me." The wind seemed to be picking up and it felt colder than before, or it may have been the steady stream of snowflakes that flurried away from Ivan's magical staff.

"This your plan all along? Get me out in the middle of nowhere and kill me?"

"You think me a villain," his tone was one of mock hurt and his free hand flattened against his chest. "I wanted to test who was the strongest king in a friendly match."

Alfred grinned and shrugged off his coat. The runes along his back already began to activate and power was seeping into his limbs, spreading out an electric heat. "What if I hurt you?"

"You won't."

"But, what if I do? What was all that about endangering the lives of foreign royals?"

"I will gladly explain to your country why it was you were thrown off a mountain."

Alfred laughed. "Not a chance." His head buzzed with energy, a near drug, and he charged without warning.


	8. Chapter 8

"This never leaves this mountain."

"Agreed."

They had dragged their bedrolls a fair distance from the fire that would obstruct their view and now lay comfortably shoulder to shoulder. While mostly unscathed, both felt exhausted from the day's events. It had come as a relief to watch the sky darken as the sun sank back out of view to a clear and cool night and both wanted nothing more than to search for constellations overhead and recollect the highlights of their epic battle that had them swearing their escort to secrecy.

As the conversation lulled, Ivan sighed. "I like being out here and away from the city. Here I am Ivan, not king or sir…" Alfred tilted his head just far enough to see the small quiet smile that appeared on the other's face in the flickering light and felt calmed by it. "I'm simply Ivan."

Alfred pointed a finger towards the fire. "They sort of ruin that."

The flames illuminated their guards relaxing after being told they were off-duty and chatted to each other over their provisions. From here neither could make out their words, just the quiet sounds of conversation and occasional laughter. Beyond them stood their four snow ponies, their noises muted against the wind that rolled over them. Ivan shook his head. "I don't think they will mind if I ignore them for a night."

Alfred opened his mouth intending to argue it, but at the last moment reconsidered and looked back at the sky. "I think I'll do that too."

He could feel Ivan move beside him, searching for a more comfortable position and resting his hands atop his stomach. "It's not often I find time to do this." One finger tapped against the back of the opposite hand. "But as often as I can I look to sneak out."

"My sneaking out always looked a little different." Alfred tried to laugh at it, but his smile felt forced. It was a joke, his role in court and his antics, but he found himself giving up rather than plastering his usual grin in place tonight. Must be he was far more exhausted than he thought. His voice lowered. "I think the last time I went camping was before I was crowned."

One star in particular looked exceptionally bright, and Alfred found himself focusing on it as the light would dip. They remained silent and he ignored this nagging feeling that Ivan was watching him, choosing to keep his attention skyward. Another moment was followed by a rustle of fabric on fabric. "I envy you, having had any time outside this life."

With a growl, Alfred rolled to face him, lifting himself up by an elbow to gain a little extra height. "Do you have any idea what it was like? I had a home, _a family_! Until one day some men showed up, gave my parents some money and took me away."

Ivan didn't respond straight away, and despite the dark shadow cast from Alfred's body blocking the fire he could make out the Club king watching him as he spoke. After that he wasn't sure what expression he wore. Alfred imagined his eyes wide and mouth open in quiet apology or maybe he was angry for being yelled at. The frustration ebbed as he waited for any sort of reaction. He settled against his arm to prop his head, surprised as light crept passed his shoulder that Ivan's face really hadn't changed at all from before..

"The Spade tradition of choosing rulers confuses the other nations," Ivan finally said. "I understand the Ace foresees who it will be and they must search for and prepare the next heir." Alfred suddenly noticed his eyes were drifting towards the ground as he recalled the memory brought on by the words. "But there was no time when your predecessor died unexpectedly."

"Still doesn't make it right," he muttered.

"No, I suppose not." Alfred blinked, looking back and up and searching again for any clues as to what the other was planning. He'd probably said too much about his personal life and country and clamped his mouth tight enough to feel his jaw strain.

"Would you like to know more about me?" Ivan asked and waited until the back-lit silhouette of Alfred's head nodded. "Did you know that there are many who want me to be the last king?"

"Why?"

"Kings are old fashioned. There are groups who want something new and don't fear upsetting the balance of our world." There was hint of humour to his voice as he spoke about it, the possibility of one of their nations losing a monarchy. "They say it is superstition that bad things will come if there are no kings."

Alfred remembered the conversation where he had heard that story as well. Arthur was reprimanding him, again, for not listening to his instructors when the words had spilled out of his mouth: "I don't want to be king!" It was the only time he had ever voiced his complaint, seeing as it was hard to argue with the possibility of causing the end of the world.

"You really think any of that is true?"

Ivan shrugged. "I think part of the responsibility is to not risk it."

He made a disgruntled noise which caused Ivan to laugh. "Sorry, did I say the evil word?"

"You make me sound like a kid."

"You are."

Alfred rolled away, choosing instead to stare into the low campfire. One of their guards held some talent in magic and had packed a collection of embers that needed only a few coaxed words to start a flame. Arthur would have been jealous seeing as he struggled with those simple tasks. Behind him Ivan groaned and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't mean for you to take that so harshly."

"It's fine. It's true."

"No, I apologise for upsetting you." He didn't want to, but Alfred could feel himself softening. "Why don't you tell me about your life before?"

Ivan's hand withdrew and he considered the open opportunity. Should he even share something so personal that he had been asked to forget for sake of the kingdom? Alfred worried the memories were fading completely even though they seemed to all be happy, a complex blur of emotions rather than concrete images. "There's an open plain near the border of Diamonds. That's where they found me."

There was no comment to this fact and after a pause he saw room to fill the empty void. "I didn't really understand anything at the time." He rolled back, deciding it would suit him better to look at the person he was speaking to. "I mostly remember Arthur and Yao, the tutors, and all the people following me around giving me stuff when I cried." There was a slight, uncaring shrug to his shoulders. "I guess I couldn't understand why my real family would not come take me home."

Despite the years and the reminders that his family had taken their payment and moved on without him, Alfred's eyes stung through his steel walls. He drew in a breath that caught somewhere in the back of his throat and held it, blinking quickly against any emotion and fighting the urge to make it obvious that his nose had begun to run.

"You said your name was once Williams?" Ivan rubbed at his chin. "There is a Williams I've seen in Diamond court. You look as though you may be related."

Alfred snorted. "Yeah, I've heard there's some guy wandering around with the same face. Figured if I ever met up with him I'd have to see if it were true."

"It is true," Ivan's reply was quick, "I can attest for that you look like brothers."

"Great, well lucky for him hardly anybody knows what my original name was so no one should be bothering him."

"I think he keeps to himself. I've only spotted him once on my several trips there and finding any information about him is difficult."

"Then maybe we're not really related after all."

Ivan shook his head. "Alfred, promise me after you go home you will look for this man and see for yourself if it is true. Siblings are important."

Alfred stared back him, blinking. "Do you have siblings?"

"Of course, I have two sisters who are my emissaries in Heart currently."

Ivan waited as Alfred simply continued to stare. "Sorry, I'm imagining two versions of you with long hair, wearing dresses and it's sorta freaking me out."

"Alfred," his voice went quiet, "don't make fun of my sisters."

The Spade king quickly retracted his comment. "Sorry. I guess I don't know how I feel about it. On the one hand we might connect again and despite how we are in two different countries we will make it work for holidays. On the other hand," his voice petered out, "he might not want to see me."

When next he looked up at Ivan, the other was smiling at him. "You will not know until you try. If you show him this side of you, there is no doubt he would like you as well."

Alfred swiped at his nose, attempting to keep it as casual a motion as possible. "You won't tell anyone about any of this, will you?"

He shook his head. "No. We already agreed and anything that happens here will remain private."

"So are you saying that you don't think I'm an annoying brat now?"

Ivan hummed. "I would say you were tolerable."

"Hey!" It was automatic, his hand shot out and jabbed Ivan squarely in the chest. Not until it had returned to his side did he notice what he had done. He tried to brush the thought aside, seeing as earlier he had attempted to punch the other instead. Whatever inner turmoil troubled him over the action, Ivan merely chuckled at his reaction.

"Do you think you can survive a while longer staying in my country?"

Alfred pondered the question, rolling onto his back to once more study the sky above him. A small part of him hoped he would find the answer spelled out for him somewhere. "It's not bad."

Ivan's reply was barely audible, the words being carried away on the wind.

"I'm glad."


	9. Chapter 9

"You're right leg is too far back."

Alfred slid his foot forward, wobbling as he attempted to keep his balance while doing so. Matthias shook his head. "No, like this." He hooked his ankle around his and dragged it further and forcing him to centre his weight. His eyes glanced over towards his instructor who nodded in approval before falling into a similar pose beside him. "Great! Now we'll go into our next stance."

His grip tightened around the wooden practice weapon as he tried to recall the different forms. Often his hands would move without his legs or vice versa and often he'd go back and start the series over again with a groan. Matthias seemed patient enough through it, occasionally clapping him on the shoulder when he did something that resembled the correct motion.

Elizabeta noticed this as she made to cross the courtyard having finished her morning routines in the barracks. Sweat still clung to her brow and made the short hairs frizz and refused to hear to reason that she was still queen and second to the throne. She rubbed a towel over her face as she stopped to watch the display. Alfred made it nearly halfway through the set before he sighed at not matching his instructor and awkwardly falling into a similar fashion. She slung her towel over her shoulder as she started walking.

"You were closer that time!" Matthias applauded while they moved back into place once more.

Alfred's weary smile grew at the praise. "I want to get it before lunch."

"You do understand it takes years for people to master this, right?"

"But," Alfred countered, setting himself back into first form and checking that all his limbs were in their required places, "I'm not doing too bad, right?"

"I'm sure there are girls who look less awkward than you." Elizabeta giggled at his sour face, coming to a stop with her hands at her hips. "No, you are doing well enough for a beginner. Now that you're putting some effort into it," she added.

Matthias laughed loudly, his hand crashing into Alfred's back at the joke. Rather than anger, he chuckled as well, enjoying the lack of fragile treatment he was all too used to being subjected to.

"So," she continued, a smirk playing off her lips, "why the sudden change of heart in getting lessons? You planning a rematch?"

"He told me he was bored," Matthias cut in.

Alfred threw a glare his way and lifted his chin. "Yeah, I want a rematch. And I want to be able to beat you."

"Woah, slow down." The Club soldier jerked his thumb at his queen and shook his head. "You can't beat her. Not too many people can. You'd be better off starting out against Daan."

Alfred blinked and lowered his weapon. "Isn't that the kid squire with a limp?"

"Trust me, don't underestimate him. He'll still put up one heck of a fight." As he looked between the two with their serious expressions he started to doubt his own abilities.

After clearing her throat, Elizabeta smiled. "Would you like some advice?"

At the resulting nod she stepped closer, tilting her head as she did so to not break their gaze. It emphasized the difference in height between them and Alfred felt the frustration building in his chest. "Do you understand why you lost to me?"

Alfred's face went flat. "Because you're more skilled than I am."

"Well, yes, but that's not the main reason." By now she stood toe to toe, hands clasped behind her back. "You are direct and powerful, but I used your power against you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I figured out where you were weakest and used the least amount of effort to take you down." Her right hand shot out and pinched his side. With a shriek the Spade king jumped way, protectively clutching the spot she had assaulted.

"Ticklish?" she asked sweetly.

Alfred swept a pointed finger at them. "You are both sworn to secrecy about this."

Several small snowflakes flitted over the protective wall, momentarily catching Elizabeta's attention away from tormenting their guest. It still seemed too early for flurries, and she couldn't properly ignore the invading thought of what they could mean.

"Keep up the good work, Matthias." Her soldier stood to rapt attention at being addressed, giving her the formality due her station. "I expect him to make it through that series by the end of the day."

"Alright! Again!" Matthias cheered as he and Alfred fell back into their practice with renewed vigour. She couldn't help but laugh and roll her eyes at the sounds of exertion they made behind her back as she headed back to the open door by the great hall. Someone must have foolishly left it partially undone and the breeze must have pushed it further. But, magic or no, they couldn't waste any of their heat through an open entryway.

She jumped as she crossed the threshold and her eyes adjusted to the change in light. "Ivan!"

Ivan smiled sheepishly, standing against the wall with an arm full of papers. "It seems someone left this door open. I was on my way to close it."

Elizabeta could feel her heart beating beneath her palm and after taking a moment dropped her hand away from her chest. "How long have you been standing there?"

Ivan's face reddened. "I've only just arrived…"

She shook her head and threw her chin over her shoulder. "Are you seeing this? Did something get into him?" Elizabeta paused and bit her lip, her eyebrows furrowing. "Or should I be concerned?"

"Perhaps he is simply becoming interested in our country?"

"I am not so sure…" She grabbed the large wooden door and pushed it shut, making sure she could hear the latch slide into place securing it. The look on the king's face made her think that it wouldn't stay that way for long. "I'm glad I ran into you. There's early snow today."

"That does not mean anything." He avoided her gaze, his free hand anxiously running along the gathering of paper.

"I know it is only superstition," She rested her shoulder against the door frame and crossed her arms, "but I cannot shake this feeling…"

"You should clean up and rest." Ivan smiled warmly, straightening up and guiding her away from entry with an arm. "I am sure Roderich would like some of your attentions. He mentioned at breakfast he was considering attempting a new recipe. Some sort of torte, I think."

The queen relaxed and returned the smile easily. "Ah! Perhaps I will make sure he has not made too much of a mess." She giggled and wiggled her fingers at him, striding in quiet ease towards the stairs humming a small tune to herself.

Ivan waited until she was out of sight for the smile to fade. Although he did not consider himself overly superstitious, he did have a deep respect for the possibility of omens. And as much as he tried to remind himself that early snow only meant a poor yield for their minimal food stores, he couldn't ignore the possibility of that leading to something more. He would need to reach out to the farmers of sheep and goats to see how they were managing.

His eyes flickered down to his packet of papers, quickly rescanning the opening report he had been given before he had become distracted.

Early snow was always a sign of trouble to come.


	10. Chapter 10

Alfred flashed a practice grin at his reflection and felt a familiar comfort at the dazzling image. He was dressed in some of his best business casual, hair brushed into meticulous place, and splashed some of his favourite cologne on his skin. Every angle needed to look perfect and he spun to see his back by turning his chin over his shoulder. No paparazzi would catch the king of Spades off his guard today.

One single rap of knuckles on his door announced Emil as he let himself in. Alfred turned fully to him, falling into the public persona that included a tall posture and his hands on either side of his waist. "How do I look?"

Emil's eyes passed up and down. "Like you're late. Everyone's waiting for you downstairs."

"Alright, alright…" He grabbed his coat, a heavy wool article in rich blue given to him to help keep warm while they were out today, but it was too hot wear indoors. The article was folded neatly over his arm and he followed the servant as they made their way to the great hall where the collection of guards and staff that would be accompanying them today milled around Ivan, showing him itineraries or going over plans for safety.

He grinned when he spotted Matthias who briefly broke his stiff pose to return the gesture with a thumbs up and then quickly fell back into place besides Berwald. The Club soldiers formed ordered rows dressed in ceremonial green and tan, waiting for the signal to leave and it made Alfred pause as he saw it. He didn't recall signing up for a parade.

Emil left him at the edge of the vortex of staff and he was on his own to navigate his way through to the very centre. Ivan sighed when he finally made it to his side. "Good, I think we are ready." He was already dressed within his sea green coat, the buttons done up to his neck beneath his scarf and looked uncomfortable, Alfred noted. He rested a hand over his coat with the comforting thought of that he had been right in waiting to put his own on.

"You really think we need this many?" Alfred nodded at the small gathering, guessing that most of the royal guards were standing in the room. "I thought we were just going to church and doing a couple photo ops?"

"It is better to be safe," Ivan said, his attention drifting to a page thrust in front of him by an apologetic woman. He frowned and signed his name to the bottom of it and asked for it to be left on his desk for when he returned. "Two kings in one place could be asking for trouble."

"Your majesties," a man dressed in black and sporting the Club pin bowed low in front of them, "The autos are prepared and warded. If you are ready to depart?"

"Yes!" Alfred looked around at the stares he had garnered for his outburst and squared his shoulders. "I mean, yes. Please, lead the way." He quickly slid his coat into place and fastened the navy buttons.

While they remained straight-faced and proper as soon as the door closed and they were both seated comfortably in the auto, Ivan's face broke as he chuckled. "Excited to be out?"

Alfred rolled his eyes and tried to hide his smile. "I just want to be outside! You know I used to sneak out every night back home. And," he added as he relaxed against the head rest, "the press probably think I'm dead back home. It's been ages since anybody's gotten any good shots of me."

"Must be nice," Ivan murmured quietly, his gaze drifting out the window as they began to follow the narrow road off the mountain. Alfred used the time to pick at his nails and run his tongue over his teeth in final preparation.

"Do you have any late night bars here?"

Ivan turned his head, his eyebrows raised, but found his companion absorbed in his reflection in the auto's glass. "Are you looking to experience them? Because I am afraid most places close in the evenings." At the disappointed sound his companion made, he clasped his hands tightly together. "If you'd like, we can have drinks tonight when we return. I'll have bottles brought out and we can invite staff to join us?"

Alfred stopped his grooming to glance over his shoulder. "Really? We could do something like that?"

"It would have to remain there. For safety," Ivan added quickly, "And I do not think we can invite many people from the city so it may be smaller than you're used to."

Slowly the corners of Alfred's mouth turned upwards. "I'd like that."

Ivan gave a curt nod and quickly looked away, distracting himself as their motorcade exited through the gate and picked a path through the tightly packed city streets.

Today Alfred determined there was a certain amount of charm to the assortment of old buildings that made up the capital of Clubs. It showed the history of the area to have a modern building made of steel next to a stone hobble. And it looked like with everything they passed there was still activity in them. His home had a tendency to tear down old to build in new and improved, but now he began to question it. Shaking his head, he accredited his strange thoughts to something in the water and being cooped up like a prisoner for so long.

Crowds looked curiously as the vehicles slowly rolled down the streets and pulled into the small cobble courtyard outside the central cathedral. It was a tall collection of spires made of dark stone and as Alfred stepped out of the auto he whistled as he tilted his head back to look at them. The few windows that were present were small slits cut into the smoothed walls, but they each held the same magnificent stained glass that were fitted within the castle's great hall.

Alfred walked around the back of their auto to join Ivan, a wide smile on his face. "This place looks pretty cool."

Ivan beamed. "I'm glad you approve of it." He held his hand out in front of them and they walked side by side to the steps that would lead them inside. Alfred resisted the urge to look behind him, the crowds having gotten louder since their doors had opened. There was no denying he had missed this aspect of his role as king.

The interior of the cathedral rivalled the glamour of the castle's great hall. Paintings in every hue littered all available surfaces and statues of marble were pushed into all corners and filled the floor making it feel crowded with so few actual people inside. Guards stationed themselves in key places near doorways, communicating via magicked devices on their wrists. Alfred stumbled as he twisted to look all around him, much to his host's amusement.

"Welcome, your highnesses!" Three figures dressed in long white robes and deep green tabards hurried forward and bowed low before them. Ivan acknowledged it with a smile and a slight nod to each one as they straightened. The Spade king placed his hands in his pockets while he regarded them. The trio's clothes were embroidered along the hems and the very fronts of their chests each had a large symbol of their nation stitched in place. Though they smiled, they stood nearly on top of one another leaving a large amount of room between them and their guests.

"Alfred, I'd like to introduce you to the caretakers of this cathedral." Ivan indicated to each one in turn and as they were introduced they bowed once more to him with their hands held together over their chests. "Toris, Eduard, and Raivis."

"It's a pleasure to meet you!" Toris chimed.

"We are honoured you would visit!" Eduard continued.

"Stay as long as you like!" Raivis finished.

Alfred grinned at them and did his best to express some kingly sentiment towards their hospitality. "Thank you."

The one, Toris if he remembered right, took a small step forward while keeping his head bowed low at an angle that would promise a knot in the muscle later. "Did you bring gifts for the muses?"

Ivan nodded and produced a small black box from his pocket which the trio quickly took and pushed back the lid to peer inside. Their heads gathered close together, their eyes widening in awe at something Alfred couldn't quite make out.

"You are so very talented!" Toris breathed.

Eduard adjusted his glasses. "You have a real eye for detail."

"I can't stop looking at it!" Raivis added.

Ivan elbowed him and tilted his head. "You brought something too, correct?" At the mention the trio shut the box before he could get a chance to see inside it.

"It's just a little something… Doesn't look like the rest of the stuff in here…" He dug around in his jacket pocket and produced a sheet of paper folded into four and a little wrinkled in its journey. After hold it out, Toris took the paper and carefully opened it with curiosity to find the sketch Alfred had done earlier. It was a little rough around the edges, but he didn't entirely hate it and waited with bated breath if it was good enough to pass as an offering to the mysterious muses.

After a moment of examination Toris smiled and held it out for his companions to see properly. "You did well drawing the cityscape! Is it your home city?" to which Alfred grinned and vigorously nodded his head.

Eduard agreed. "It makes me want to take a trip to visit!"

Raivis tilted his head. "A pilgrimage to the mountain would make this creature in the middle more recognizable."

His friends' eyes widened as their hands went to try and cover his mouth. They spewed flustered apologies for the youngest's comment, trying to reassure the visiting dignitary that he hadn't really meant it.

Alfred's head lowered and seeing it, Ivan placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. The muses place more favour on effort and dedication than they do talent so in that regard your work is better than some of the others in here."

"Yes!" Toris quickly agree. "And here we cherish all the gifts received from visiting royals. W-would you like to come see some of them? They go back few centuries."

With a little encouragement, the Spade king's spirits were raised and Eduard promptly began to direct him towards the required wing, Raivis nearly stepping on his heels in order to keep up. "You may recognise some of the names in our collection! And we will also find a spot to display yours as well."

Ivan watched them leave, suddenly finding that he was smiling and willed it away for the time being. Toris, who had remained behind with him, had likewise let his face fall slack in seriousness. "You wished to speak with me? Your message sounded rather grave."

Ivan nodded and lowered his voice. "I've heard rumours and I wanted to see if you had any insights." He leaned in closer. "About a group known as the New Order?"

At mention of the name Toris grew visibly paler and stiffly affirmed Ivan's suspicions. "This isn't something to speak about out in the open, your majesty. Let's move to my office."


	11. Chapter 11

Alfred could only stare at the assortment before him. Each wall of this alcove was dedicated to a different kingdom, shelves protruding to the ceiling to display everything from paintings to statues. Items that been donated by visiting dignitaries through generations. "Is there even any room?"

Eduard hummed, place a hand on his chin as he studied the puzzle before him. "I think if we move some of these around we can find space right here at the front." He pushed a roughly carved piece of wood in the shape of a large bear to one end of a shelf and placed Alfred's sketch in its spot. "That was your predecessor's. It's said that he brought a new one with every visit and this was his favourite journey to make, so much so that he would come twice a year!" He chuckled quietly. "That was before my time. I believe Toris knew him better."

The bear watched unblinking and Alfred reached out a finger to touch the tip of its nose. This made the man that came before him feel far too real and likeable. Not all the blame could rest on a man who been well received in every kingdom and left some large shoes to fill. And from what he understood he had always been destined to be king, it was just an unfortunate circumstance that it was sooner than any had expected.

"Yours is the last gift from the royals currently ruling the four kingdoms."

Alfred blinked out of his own thoughts. "You mean Francis and Ludwig have items here too?"

Raivis grinned. "More than that!" He pulled open a drawer and dug through producing a photograph which he brandished in front of Alfred's nose. "Yao always makes us something tasty."

When he finally manged to snatch the picture away he realised he recognised the dish as he had seen Yao reproduce this recipe a few times in the castle kitchens. Though as he thought harder he found he couldn't recall ever trying it.

Raivis' mouth was watering as he recalled his own memory. "It was so good! And we all ate together and he told us stories about his home village."

Eduard nodded and pointed to a typed transcript that was pinned to a corner of the shelf his sketch sat on. "I find him to be a talented storyteller as well as chef."

Alfred's mouth felt fairly dry. "What about Arthur? You have something of his?"

He was indicated towards a vase in ocean blue where several roses rested with a familiarity that made him feel a bit guilty. "He enchants the flowers to remain like that. Not traditional, but your queen does work hard on them."

"But come see the others." Raivis grabbed his arm and half dragged him several feet to the side where the faded wall was once a vibrant red and pointed to a masterfully completed oil painting hidden behind a collection of folded paper birds. "Of course the Jack of Hearts originated from here." His childish smile grew with pride. "You can always tell a club citizen."

Alfred's eyes roamed the shelves dedicated for Hearts, taking in the years that been spent amassing the collection. "What about Francis and them?"

Eduard and Raivis shared a look. "They don't quite get it."

Confused, he was brought before the Diamonds display and his guides waited with expectant faces for him to agree. He did his best to not let it show how lost he was. Many of the shelves held strings of pearls which he knew were a favoured fashion trend of some of the elite. It was certainly flashier than the others.

Raivis sighed. "He doesn't get it either."

While he felt his skin heat up, Eduard intervened. "Diamonds have a habit of bringing us things that are expensive. Not something that is art."

"You're forgetting the time a king tried to pass off art he had bought from our kingdom as his own."

Eduard made a face. "Nearly caused an incident between the ruling families."

Foremost centre sat a necklace made of loops of pearls and bright jewels and he found it hard to understand how these were so frowned upon to be resting here in this cathedral among the grand marble statues. His thoughts must have shown on his face as Eduard leaned as close as he dared. "The muses favour items that have been worked by the hands of followers. Just being able to spend money on something does show effort to please them. It makes the gits from your kingdom far grander here."

Alfred smiled, pleased at what Eduard had suggested of his own gift while his attention drifted. "So does that make that wall the one for Clubs?"

His guides quickly showed him the way and his eyes went to scanning the display for what it was that Ivan had donated, hoping he could guess what it could be. There were a number of small trinkets made in a variety of materials which may have fit in something the size of the box that he handed them. His attention was so focused on studying a miniature stone statue that he didn't notice that the box in question had been brought out. "I think we should place this one on display for a while." Raivis quickly agreed, sticking close clutching his hands together.

Alfred watched as the lid was opened and Eduard removed a delicate glass flower. He could see why it had received the praise that it had as it looked like the real thing had somehow been transformed. This one took the place of another and the pair fiddled until they were sure it looked just right before letting him approach it to examine the work. The petals were thin and clear and as he leaned closer to look at the finer details he could feel the air chill around the tip of his nose.

"It's… ice?"

"Yes! Ivan has certainly mastered the power belonging to the Club monarchs."

He felt he couldn't look away, wondering when Ivan found the time to create it or where he had found the inspiration to do so. There were hardly any flower gardens here and it wasn't the same as Arthur's roses. "What are you doing with the one you just took?"

"Some we sell on, some we keep stored. Some of these are a part of numerous collections across the world."

He nodded and bit his lip as he thought. "Do you have any more of the king before me?"

Eduard smiled and nodded, passing the box in his hands to his companion. "Would you like one? I can continue our tour and we can have Raivis search for them." Raivis didn't appear to be overly fond of this idea, but he mutely accepted his duty and darted off as soon as he was commanded. "Now, if you will follow me I can show you some of the interesting pieces in our collection…"

Was it possible for your head to hurt simply from learning? Alfred rubbed at a temple having forgotten names of artists seconds after Eduard said them. There was a part of him that wondered if he was missing some grand idea when the most he understood was that he liked some works more than others. His fingers travelled to his eyes and massaged them while trying to keep his jaw shut as he felt a yawn coming on. They had moved to the less crowded library wing where his guide was promising something spectacular that he simply had to witness first hand.

It made the situation worse when he was directed to a large soft armchair and could feel exhaustion threaten him as soon as he sat down in it. He barely heard Eduard's explanation about what was about to happen. "This entire room is charmed. It took the magicians over a month to get it work correctly. But now you only need to make a selection…"

Alfred blinked when he realised that a sheet of paper was being held out to him and pointed to something random as he didn't really understand anything that was on it. Whatever he chose was praised and he was left alone to wait. He jostled a foot in attempt to remain conscious and stifled another yawn as the lights dimmed. Music played eerily from somewhere unseen and in a shimmering cascade of white light figures began to appear in the open room.

He had seen this sort of magic before, but never to this extent or done with this much care. The floor rippled to depict the scenery and miniature dancers took to their stage to keep in time with the music. Alfred leaned forward in his chair, all thoughts of exhaustion gone as he watched everything with rapt attention until the final chords began to fade along with his private show. As the lights brightened he was on his feet. "That was amazing! What did I choose?"

Eduard looked pleased. "That's a scene from one of the old ballets. We usually favour that one in the spring."

"Wow!"

As they exited the library Raivis caught up with them, still out of breath as he came to a halt just before Alfred. "I found them…"

He opened a small padded case wherein several wooden carvings rested and Alfred felt he could recognise the same level of craftsmanship as he had with the bear. His hand drifted over them, stopping on one of a plump owl with an amused expression. "It's really okay if I take one?"

"You are his legacy," Eduard told him as he picked up the owl and turned it around in his hands. At certain angles the owl appeared to planning something tricky, and others like he was chuckling at a good joke and it brought a smile to the Spade king's face.

"I like this one."

"Which one do you like?"

Alfred quickly hid the figurine in the pocket of his coat, turning his body to hide it as Ivan strode up to rejoin him. His face felt hot as he pointed a finger towards a collection of statues to his right. "That one."

Ivan's, along with the three clergy's, heads turned in that direction. Slowly the king of Club's eyebrows rose. "The one of the god of fertility?"

He blinked as he saw to which one he was still indicating. The predominant figure had the head of an animal and the body of a man with exaggerated genitalia. A second nude man cowered beneath the god's massive shadow and Alfred's mouth hung open. "Uh… Yeah…" It felt far too warm to remain indoors and he pulled at his collar nervously. "You know what they say, go big or go home."

Ivan smirked. "Unfortunately you cannot go home quite yet."

"You're a genuine royal pain in the ass."

"Did you enjoy your tour of the cathedral?"

Alfred took in a breath, finally feeling some of the heat that flooded his face begin to dissipate. "Yeah, this place is great. I'd like to visit again. Maybe see another one of those dances."

"We would be honoured to see you here again." The trio bowed low to him and with a wide grin he returned it.

"We should get the press out of the way before we return home." Ivan thanked them for their time and began to lead the way back to the door. A few guards straightened as they approached, one mumbling into his wrist watch that they were leaving. Alfred kept to Ivan's side, knowing it was important for any images that could be taken that they looked like they were equals. Ivan paused just before the exit and sighed. "I always hate this part."

Alfred flashed him a grin. "I don't know why not. You get all kinds of attention. Let me do the talking."

If he were allowed to, the king of Spades would pushed the doors open himself. However, here two attendants scrambled to get them open so that neither king would need to slow as they emerged from the arched cathedral doorway and descended the few stone steps to the cobble courtyard. The remainder of the guards were keeping the crowd at bay, but there was a significant increase in noise and electronic flashes as they appeared. Alfred easily smiled and waved to anyone who looked his way, a stark contrast to the stiff form that walked beside him.

"Mr. Jones!" someone called out of the cacophony of noise, "What have you been doing since you've arrived in Clubs?"

Alfred held up a hand and cleared his throat. "I am visiting Clubs to strengthen ties between our nations. This is the closest our two countries have been in decades. And Ivan has been a great host and been showing me around." Without any hesitation he flung an arm around the other king's shoulders, startling him in the process. "In fact, I'd say we've become the best of friends!"

He held there, a massive grin spread across his face, one arm holding Ivan close against him and the other holding out a thumbs up. The crowd went crazy, pictures being snapped and their shouts rose to a near deafening roar. After a full minute, Alfred released him, waved a few more times and headed for the autos, Ivan dumbly following right behind.


	12. Chapter 12

Today Alfred realised Emil was capable of expressing more than one emotion.

The thin servant had run into the room and upon spotting him sitting around a table come to a sudden halt, doubled over with his hands braced on his knees. "Ivan… needs… you…"

"I told you, Emil," Matthias tutted with a shake of his head. He moved some of his pieces around the game board spread out before him and nudged the man to his left to take his turn. "You've got to exercise more."

Emil's glare willed him to regret what he had said, but the effect wasn't what he had hoped as the grinning man didn't relinquish his jest. Instead he turned his head and stood up a little straighter, his full attention on Alfred. "You're needed in the king's office." His voice was urgent and left little room to argue.

Alfred sighed and pushed back his chair, assuming whatever Ivan needed him for would undoubtedly take a while. "I guess that means I have to forfeit our game."

Matthias began to lean over. "Which means we get to divide up your tokens between us…" Several greedy hands all began to snake their ways across the game board, headed for Alfred's small stockpile of earnings. He used his arms to create barriers.

"Hold on, as king that means I get to decide who gets what." He scooped up them up and dumped them back into the box with a wide grin. "And I think it would be unfair for you guys not to earn them on your own."

Emil coughed and pointed to the door. "You're needed right now!"

"Okay, fine." He waved a final farewell as he was ushered out, just short of being pushed. "Calm down!" he threw over his shoulder as they wound their way through the halls of the upper floors. "What's Ivan need me for so urgently, anyway? I haven't done anything lately." He stopped short. Had he done something recently?

"It's matters of the kingdoms." This time Emil did put his shoulder squarely into Alfred's back to get him to move again.

Alfred huffed loudly. "That means hardly anything! Did somebody die? Are we at war?"

"Maybe to both if you don't move. Now!"

They picked up the pace Alfred's mind now a whirl of thoughts and emotions. This had been the longest standing peace his kingdom had seen in a number of years so he couldn't imagine his leaving would have left the country vulnerable or Arthur starting something that would have grown out of hand. Not unless it had to do with one of the others?

He shook his head as Ivan's door came into sight. Hearts and Diamonds couldn't be starting up new feuds. Not again.

Dropping all formalities, he shoved open the door and fell into the room at jog. "Ivan? What is it? What's happened?"

Ivan looked up from where he was standing before his large mirror. His face relaxed in relief but it wasn't him that spoke first. A familiar voice echoed from within the looking glass. "Is that Alfred? Get over here!"

His shoulders instinctively bunched towards his ears and at a much slower pace he slunk before the glass besides Ivan. "Hey Arthur…"

The Spade queen looked exactly as he remembered him, with face flushed like he had his collar starched too tight. As soon as Alfred came into view he leaned away from his own mirror in the Spades' castle and once the image was not filled solely with Arthur's face he could spot Yao standing within the frame as well. In contrast, Yao was attempting to hide a smile behind an expansive sleeve, but his eyes were still crinkled as he was struggling to hold back some laughter.

"You have a lot of explaining to do!" Arthur's voice was loud and he considered how possible it was to magnify sound through these connections. Likely anyone with a shred of magical talent could force the volume to their preference.

"I do?"

"Don't act like you don't know what you did." Alfred glanced to Ivan who looked just as puzzled as he did. Ivan raised his eyebrows in question, but he couldn't provide a reason to the other king why he was getting reprimanded this time.

"What did I do now?"

Arthur took a step back, his head turned towards Yao. "He honestly doesn't know." Yao dropped his arm, face straining to look serious and shrugged. The next thing both kings saw was a paper informant being shoved against the corresponding mirror, a collection of articles and photographs filled their view. "Do you see this headline? How do you explain this?" The paper was shaken with each word making it difficult to understand what the black print read, but underneath it were several images, the first he recognised as having been taken in front of the cathedral.

"Our trip to the cathedral?" Alfred asked.

Arthur pulled the informant away, glared into the mirror as he snapped the paper straight and cleared his throat. Yao crossed his arms and looked anywhere else.

Then the irate queen began to read. " _We all know about our king's latest venture to the Club's capital, but I was determined to find out more about Alfred Jones' visit than what was initially reported. Especially since we are all well accustomed to his style of doing things._ " Arthur looked up; his thick eyebrows furrowed close together over a look that could make weaker men melt. Alfred smiled sheepishly in response and waited until his gaze returned to the paper. "Then she goes into great detail about her bloody holiday and traveling there. But then there is this: _I was not disappointed and was welcomed into the cathedral by the caretakers. Toris Laurinaitis, head of the clergy, graciously showed me around and told me more about King Jones' visit._ "

Alfred was holding his breath. So far this did not seem too far out of the ordinary and he couldn't imagine what this reporter would have found to make Arthur this angry. " _Most of the tour seemed to be standard, though I was shown what Jones had offered to the muses on his visit, and while we can say our king is talented in many things I am struggling to call him an artist._ "

His face felt hot. "This is about that picture I gave them? I promise next time to make something better, alright?"

Ivan patted his shoulder. "I agree. I did not find the image that bad. And we here in Clubs place more value in the effort than the outcome."

"This isn't about some shite picture!" Arthur bent over fine print to continue to read it. " _When asked if there were any pieces that Jones had liked in particular, Laurinaitis had been hesitant. After some persuasion, however, he led me to one statue that the king had expressed interest in. I have included an image of it, because it is clear what may be foremost on our dear king's mind._ "

"Oh."

Yao snorted and struggled to regain some of his composure.

" _I was informed that the statue is dedicated to an ancient god of fertility, hence the very prominent feature. He couldn't tell me exactly what our king liked about this particular piece, but I have several theories behind it._ " Arthur began crumpling the paper in his hands, slowly using his fingers to draw the thin pages together. "Of course," he continued "The entire rest of the article is dedicated to comparing the size of your penis and what the average of someone in Clubs might be."

Alfred focused his eye line directly to a portion of the mirror frame just below the image of his court. It was a rather ornate and stylized silver twisted into tangled vines. His in his own office, the one queen and Jack were likely using, had dozens of plain dark stones with carved runes to supposedly protect against spying eyes. Ivan had removed his hand, but hadn't said anything more and Alfred didn't dare look his way to see how he was reacting to this. "I would ask if this really happened, but I do not doubt it." Arthur's glinting eyes flickered between the both of them.

"I do want to know." Yao forced a stoic look upon his face and let his arms fall casually at his sides. "Ivan, did he really like that statue?"

For half a second Alfred was sure Ivan would defend him. Then he heard, "Uh…"

Yao began to giggle until Arthur rounded on him. "This concerns you as well! He's embarrassing us all!" The jack cleared his throat and stopped laughing.

"How bad can this really be?" Alfred asked. "So what if everyone thinks I liked one statue?"

"How bad? Everyone is talking about the _Spades-Clubs Penis Envy_. Hell, even Francis has called to comment on it! And you know I hate speaking to him," he added with a grumble. "Of course I practically raised you so I would be one to know-"

"Please don't-!"

"-That you're really not all that impressive anyway."

Alfred's ears turned a bright shade of red. "But, that wasn't what happened!"

"Save it," Arthur spat. "Parliament is just as concerned. We send you there as punishment and you still cannot learn to take some responsibility."

"Mr. Kirkland," Ivan interjected, stepping forward and bowing slightly. "I think you are wrong about Alfred. He has been courteous with us and we have enjoyed his company lately."

When Alfred lifted his chin he found the king of Clubs standing stiffly at his side across from the image of a glowering Queen of Spades. He caught Yao's eye and shared a short silent conversation speculating what was about to happen.

Arthur conceded. "You may think that, but we are the ones who know him and are left to deal with the consequences of his actions." His head turned so suddenly on Alfred that he jumped. "We are still discussing how to handle this, but the best course of action may be to have you return here."

"Hold on!" Alfred protested, "I don't want to-!"

"Thank you for trying, Ivan." And the mirror darkened before shifting back into their reflections.


	13. Chapter 13

Ivan was roused from his bed barely an hour after he had put himself into it. Groggily he sat up and looked towards the door, hoping it had been in his head and he could lie back once more. No such luck. Three more knocks sounded. He rose to answer them.

His night guard cringed backwards as he opened the door. "Sorry to disturb you, sir, it's…" His eyes glanced down the hall and Ivan followed his gaze.

That is how he found Alfred leaning on the other man appointed to standing watch at night. The Spade king offered a lopsided smile and his movements were long swimming-like strokes. "You're up! I need to speak to you about important… king stuff…" The overly sweet and pungent stench of alcohol was detectible off of every word he spoke and he internally wondered which staff member thought it a good idea to sneak him a bottle.

After a moment's pause, mostly to further drag himself away from the idea that royalty shouldn't be disturbed in slumber, he nodded and opened his door wider. "Put him on the sofa." To the other he sent to bring up a pitcher of water. Aided, Alfred remained on his feet despite how much his weight would suddenly careen both him and the guard helping him off course. He sat heavily and reclined, one foot on the cushions and his head supported by the back so he could stare at the ceiling which was commissioned by one of the former kings to feature a number of beautiful figures lounging in relaxation amidst fields and ponds. The theory was it was meant to distract preoccupied minds and lull them towards sleep.

Ivan shut the door and reached for his robe. "It's the middle of the night, Alfred."

"The room's spinning." His open mouth closed while he moistened his lips and then returned to its prior state. "I think I'm drunk."

"Only think?" He was relieved when the water came and he assured his men that he would be able to handle whatever nonsense was about to be thrown his way. He filled the glass that had been brought and guided Alfred's hand to hold it. "You need to drink this."

Alfred took the tiniest of sips. "I need to talk to you."

"So you said." He tipped the cup towards Alfred's lips. "Drink."

He pushed the cup away. "No, I need you to understand." Ivan pulled back and held the glass close to his chest, his jaw closing tightly in his frustration. Alfred was distracted in his task of rhythmically patting his chest and down his thighs until he found whatever it was he was trying to locate in one of his pockets. "Aha!" he proclaimed as he struggled to remove it from his trousers. "This is what I needed to show you."

Ivan traded the water for it and turned it over in his hands. It wasn't anything remarkable, just a small crudely carved figurine of some sort of bird. He shook his head. "I don't understand."

Alfred leaned forward and forcefully pointed at it. "That's the thing! That's what I like!" Ivan continued to stare at him, eyebrows raised until the Spade king groaned and spilled some of his water. "At the cathedral! You know, it wasn't some statue of a massive dick."

He sucked in a breath as the pieces connected. "Oh, yes. I remember now. But what I still don't understand," he rubbed his thumb over the wood and held it up so Alfred could see it, "is why?"

"Eduard said I could have it." His voice softened to a mumble and he raised his glass in front of his mouth but still didn't drink. "The king before me made it."

"Why did you want it?"

Rather than answer, Alfred tipped the glass back and finished it several large gulps, water leaking out the sides and spill down his front. When he finished he rubbed the cuff of his sleeve on his chin and looked anywhere else in the room he could to avoid Ivan. His face was flushed, but the cause of it was difficult to ascertain was more because of the drink or because of his embarrassment. He tapped his fingers along the empty container until Ivan took it away from him and refilled it.

"You're gonna think it's stupid."

Ivan shrugged. "Tell me and we'll see."

With a sigh Alfred set his cup in his lap. "I guess when I was standing there looking at the one they've got in the room for the nations he felt like a real person. Not saying that I didn't think he was real!" He looked towards the far wall to the right of Ivan's chair. "But he felt more normal."

Ivan placed the small figure on the end table beside the couch Alfred was stretched out on. "I'm still not sure I'm following."

"There's this huge portrait of him back home. Have you seen it? Right, how could you miss it? Well, when I was a kid Arthur took me to see it one day and he told me all about how amazing this guy was. He had to be the perfect leader and Arthur wouldn't stop going on and on about all the great things he'd done with his time on the throne…" Alfred paused and bit his lip, looking towards the face of the wooden owl. "But, I guess… Maybe he was just another guy picked to be king."

"He's not as mythical when he's creating these… interesting pieces?"

Alfred grinned broadly. "If anybody else had made them I would have thought they were pretty lame."

Ivan chuckled and pushed the glass forward again, relieved when Alfred did willingly drink from it this time. His smile faded and made a pitiful expression towards the king of Clubs. "I just wanted to set the record straight. It's embarrassing. I guess not as embarrassing as everybody thinking I like massive dongs, but I swear this time Arthur's got it all wrong."

"I suppose you cannot entirely blame him for thinking it was true based on your past exploits…"

Alfred's shoulders slumped. "You're probably right. But as long as you know I was innocent this time."

There was a brief momentary warmth that spread through his chest at hearing that, but he ignored it. With a small sigh Ivan nodded. "I understand you are innocent about it. Now you should get back to bed. It's already late."

A pause followed where Alfred tapped his fingers along the glass. "Can I stay here?"

"Alfred, I'm not sure that's appropriate…"

"Please?"

Ivan found himself trapped in a difficult position. On the one hand he was concerned about any rumours that might spread about himself and how fast his hard-earned reputation could possibly be tarnished. On the other hand the face he was given was so sad and pleading that he couldn't bear to turn down Alfred's request. "Okay, but you must sleep."

Alfred's head rolled loosely as he nodded in agreement. Ivan helped him to his feet and frowned. "Your shirt is soaked."

"Haha, oops." He swiped his hands down his damp clothing as if to brush the moisture away.

With a groan Ivan tugged him towards his own wardrobe and pulled out a clean sleeping shirt. Alfred slapped his hands away when he attempted to aid him and so raised his palms and took a step back. He rolled his eyes as he watched Alfred pull his shirt up and get it stuck at his ears and proceeded to twist and fight his fabric prison. It gave him ample opportunity to study the rune tattoo covering the other's back. He wished his own magicians could see it and copy the secret Spade magic.

Alfred ceased his struggling and huffed loudly. "Can I get some help?"

Ivan made quick work of swapping one shirt for the other and hesitated. Surely the appropriate thing would be for one of them to sleep on the couch, but he knew he did not fit comfortably on it. Was it rude to have a guest sleep there? His hands clenched together. Meanwhile the other headed in a wavering line for the bed. "I'm not cuddling with you."

"Of course not!"

Alfred helped himself beneath the sheets. "And you better not hog all the blankets!"

Ivan found that difficult because the other king had managed to wrap most of the expansive blankets solely around him. He paused at the edge of the bed, weight shifting between his feet as he looked back towards the couch until the sounds of Alfred's breathing turning rhythmic and heavy. At last he joined him, easing himself onto the mattress as best he could to not disturb. He rolled onto his side, his back to the other, and teetered dangerously at the edge of the bed until drowsiness won out over his racing thoughts on the situation.


	14. Chapter 14

That was it. He was finally returning to civilization. Back to his life of parties in the evenings and finding which new ways he could rile Arthur up. Back to food that tasted normal, the temperatures rising to balmy, and the comforts the royal staff always afforded as they catered to his every whim.

He should have felt happier. It had taken several months, but he was finally getting what he had wanted in the first place. And yet even as he was packing his things, he found himself asking the staff to delay their departure a little longer. When questioned about it, the best he could give for an answer was to say, "I need to fix things," which was truthful, but he didn't have any sort of plan for the matter short of marching down to the gaggle of reporters at the bottom of the mountain the castle perched on and shouting something at them until they understood. He hadn't mentioned this to anyone, mostly because he was very aware that they were going to tell him to remain where he was and not make things worse.

Ivan hadn't been seen in nearly a week, electing to eat his meals in solitude behind the large doors to his office. There was a certain amount of guilt Alfred felt whenever he looked at the empty seat at the head of the table. Elizabeta was always friendly and their conversations were rarely lacking over dinner, but he felt it died as soon as his gaze fell to the left expecting some kind of response from the empty place setting.

He hadn't felt guilt like this over any of his actions before. It gnawed at him late into the night. Because of him Ivan was being compared to kings before him, the crooked ones that made secretive deals with other countries at the expense of their own people. But at the same time he didn't know what to say to change their minds.

After a loud call from Arthur, he couldn't prolong leaving any longer. He had two days maximum to board the train that would take him out of the capital and begin the voyage back to his country. Alfred tried to argue that he wasn't finished, but his elder mentor made it clear he was. And that's when he decided he needed to act.

Leaving the quiet confines of his room he stormed down the hall with purpose, ignoring any wide-eyed looks from staff who stepped out of his way to allow him to pass without hindrance. The only obstacle left were the guards stationed outside and those closed office doors.

They shifted slightly in an attempt to block him. "I need to speak to him. I said, I need to speak to him!" They backed off and he muscled his way into the room. "Ivan!"

The king of Clubs looked up from his desk, a very different visage than what Alfred's memories had from a week earlier. His hair looked like it hadn't been washed properly in days and beneath his eyes the skin had darkened. He blinked slowly from where he was hunched over in his chair, as if trying to recall who was in front of him and why he was there. "Hm? You need something?"

"Y-yes," Alfred faltered and approached him with more sympathetic caution. "You've been in here a week."

"Has it been that long already?" Ivan murmured.

"And, I have to tell you that I'll be leaving…"

Ivan's face looked impossibly worse at hearing that and Alfred hurried on. "I don't want to, but Arthur says it's best. I'm going to fix everything. I'm trying to come up with a plan."

A faint impression of a smile flickered on the other's face. "Thank you, Alfred. I know that you didn't mean to cause this." Basically, he should have known that Alfred would always be Alfred, wild and uncontrollable and never considering what sort of consequences could others be facing because of him.

Neither moved for a minute, and then Alfred balled up his fists. "Why are you hiding in here? You should be out there! Proving to them you're the best king they've had in years!" Ivan stared at him and did nothing to stop the fury being unleased on him. "Tell them the truth! You didn't want me here and you still don't!"

"Alfred…" his hoarse voice struggled out of his throat.

"If you don't, I'll be the one to tell everyone," Alfred threatened.

An explosion sounded that shook the castle, and possibly the mountain, beneath their feet. Alfred lurched forward, bracing himself on Ivan's desk even as the muffled shouts rose up from the unseen guard stations. The two soldiers that had been stationed outside were instantly inside the room adding to the confusion.

"Your highness!" the one demanded with urgency, "we need to take you somewhere safe."

Their roles reversed, it was Alfred who stared in dumb shock while Ivan took to his feet with a renewed sense of purpose. "What's happening?"

"There's fighting at the gates," the same guard said, and he shifted on his feet while he looked between them and the door, one hand on a club at his waist.

"Someone's saying there was a bomb inside," the other reported, a finger to his ear while he heard whatever was transmitted through their radios. His eyes flickered from side to side for a moment and then widened. "Someone's suggesting traitors!"

"We need to head to the alcove," Ivan stated, snatching Alfred's elbow as he strode past and tugging the other, more stunned, king along with him. "Through the tunnel."

The guards nodded and lead them at brisk pace out the door and down the hall towards one of the servants' stairs in the back. Another two guards rushed down the hall as they were going amidst the confused panic of many of the staff who were looking for direction and not prepared for any sort of call to arms.

"The kings are secure," one of them was shouting into their watches and by now Alfred's brain had caught up to the situation that he didn't need any encouragement to follow where the others were leading him. He had never prepared for anything like this, the closest safety drill he had ever had were those of accidental fires, especially when magical experiments went awry. All he could think now was that they were under attack, but by whom he wasn't sure. It was an invisible force that could be at any moment surrounding them.

A second explosion sounded and this time the lights shut off and then surged back a few seconds later with a tint of orange. Alfred had fought to remain upright by holding onto the wall closest to him and an expensive painting of a grumpy woman. Ivan had him again, hauling him forward to pick up the pace, racing down a set of narrow stairs while their security brutishly made room for them to go first.

After the second blast Alfred wasn't sure he wanted to go into any sort of tunnel, the sudden over powering fear that they would enter and become trapped by rocks and debris causing him to stop entirely as some secret code was tapped over the stone work and the wall dissolved to reveal a passage. Claustrophobia over took him and he protested as he was shoved forward by Ivan and his guards as they escaped unseen and the wall returned to how it was before.

Once it had closed up, he was struck by the musty dark that assailed his face and made his breathing even more difficult. The fighting and shouting and general noise of attack and chaos muted once they were trapped inside leaving eerie quiet in its place.

A soldier swore and started yelling at his companion. "Light! Damnit!"

Moments later there was a bright glowing orb in the palm of one of their guard's hands and he held it out in front of him as he took the position at the lead. Once darkness had been pushed back Alfred could see this secret tunnel properly now. Its walls and floor were uneven, but gently sloped away from the castle and most likely to the opposite base of the mountain.

"What of Elizabeta and Roderich?" Ivan asked.

"They'll have to meet us," the one guard, the apparent leader informed him. When he glanced back at Ivan he added, "They're fine and on their way," and tapped his ear.

The one with the light began to walk, thankfully at a slower pace which allowed Alfred to find his footing as they went. At first his thoughts were preoccupied on the ceiling, considering whether or not it was coming closer or not and he lost his footing a few times before he decided his better course of action would be to watch his steps.

A dull rumble came once more and shook some finer sediment down on their heads, Alfred's immediate reaction being to crouch and cover his head with his arms. When the last of the vibrations stopped Ivan helped him back up and they kept going.

The air grew warm and the slope steeper. Now he had to doubly make sure where each of his feet went as he was sure if he slipped he would slide down to the bottom. At any moment now he expected to hear the sounds of attackers coming after them and his ears were constantly listening behind, but the only sounds seemed to be the skittering of pebbles from the pairs of shuffling boots in their own party.

"We're coming up to the exit," their leader told them and Alfred thought he might rejoice not that he had ever been particularly religious. They slid to an even patch of ground and the one with the light held it aloft over another wall that required some tapping in order to escape their stony confines and once it had been entered they were greeted with the brisk chill of a welcoming breeze.

It was evening when this entire adventure had begun, but using the moonlight Alfred was able to see the face of his watch that told him it was late. Distantly there was noise that echoed around the mountain range, nothing like the explosions of before, but general commotion. They had arrived in the scraggily basin that was a vast collection of boulders and jagged crags that could not compete with their neighbours in height. Alfred enjoyed the cool air for a few minutes, but already there was a chill beginning to remind him that he had left behind any of his outerwear in the rush to escape.

Ivan pulled off the green shrug from around his shoulders. "Here."

"I don't need it," Alfred complained, even though he took it and did up the buttons besides the Club lapel. "Where now?"

Ivan turned his head to oversee the guards closing up the doorway they had just come through. "We have a location that should take about an hour to walk to and figure out what to do from there." The rock face reassembled seamlessly, no trace left behind of the tunnel it protected. Satisfied, Ivan moved towards the head. "Elizabeta and Roderich will know to meet us there."

Their travel was cut abruptly short when men began to spill out from behind the boulders and outcroppings, each of them armed and pointing their weapons in their direction.


	15. Chapter 15

"Halt!"

Alfred felt the surge of energy go through him as the strength runes on his back activated in nearly the same instance that Ivan's staff appeared in his hand. At least now he felt hot with the magic coursing through his body.

That's when he realised it wasn't their men who had spoken. That and if the men behind them were aiming weapons at the rebels they were willing to fire through the royals they were supposed to be protecting.

"Why?" Ivan said gruffly to the traitors behind them. Alfred could only manage a feral snarl, his head buzzing too much for speech.

They were quickly pulling devices from their ears and tossing their watches to the rebels. A mage collected them where each little piece of tech floated in a sphere of sickly green. He muttered the incantation that would deactivate them and completely isolate the kings from any help that could potentially come.

"You know exactly why," said the guard that had been their leader a few minutes ago. He glared as he levelled his own weapon at them, a rod about as thick as a broom handle and nearly as long as his forearm. Alfred's vision blurred and refocused. What they held was nonlethal, one end capable of projecting a concussive blast and the other containing a small electrical charge, but it would knock the wind out of you. He may have messed around with one once or twice on a dare. Even in his juiced state he would still feel the effects enough to slow him down in a fight.

Ivan sidestepped between them and Alfred. "Leave him out of this."

The man looked like would be sick and leaned to be in view of his compatriots. "What's the status of the queen and jack?"

"Cornered in their rooms for now." The one who had spoken held the same worn hard look as the rest of those gathered. Less angry than the guards, more towards the grim belief in their mission. They had to be close to Alfred's age, perhaps even a few younger than he was. Even as he stared at each of them they would meet his gaze unwaveringly. "We knew the queen could be tricky."

He couldn't take it anymore. With a guttural howl Alfred leapt on the closest body. The man let out a shriek as one hand latched onto his target's upper arm and clamped down. He effortlessly tossed his victim at the group, managing to knock another down in the process. He swung wildly, his targets keeping out of arm reach while the injured men were pulled to safety.

A spray of ice flew past him. Ivan was focused on the guards to their rear, but the effects of his battle were taking a toll on their environment. He threw up walls of thick ice to block them in, being far more cautious about outright attacking them than Alfred was being. His magical efforts were causing whatever moisture in the air to crystalize into a small flurry of snow that cascaded down on them. Already the ground was beginning to gather it underfoot.

Alfred had managed to wrench one of the weapons away from the rebels and easily snapped it into to two and throwing the pieces back at them. They gave him space, but were starting to manoeuvre themselves around him and even Ivan's occasional assistance wasn't keeping him from being steadily surrounded. The mage from earlier was adding his own magic to the fray, essentially keeping Ivan's focus solely on him as he let fly volleys of acrid green. Some he tried to block, but the magic was eating through his shields of ice and he was retreating back towards the sheer cliff of mountain to avoid being hit.

Alfred glanced his way just long enough to become distracted. They had more than one mage, and this one had been standing back working a quiet incantation alongside a man toting a large firearm that required two hands and the barrel flared outwards. With a shout from the mage it fired, sending a net of orange strands through the air. Alfred didn't move out of the way. If anything he stepped into it, bracing for whatever was about to happen and getting quickly snared in the very centre of it.

The effects were immediate. The orange counteracted the blue magic of his strength runes and his limbs became heavy. He growled and pulled more magic from them, reaching for the upper limits of the tattoo inscribed on his back and whatever his body could handle, determined that he would tear himself free through sheer force.

The knots began to pull away from one another. His grin widened further as he could see their faces dip into uncertainty. The mage was already running forward, his hands a flurry of movement and his spell work growing louder. Ivan was shouting from somewhere too, added noise to the rushing sound in his ears. He grit his teeth against the strain and fell to his knees.

Freezing winds howled over his back as Alfred was pulled further towards the ground. He was a crumpled tangle of limbs still trying in vain to get enough strength to push the web off. Snow was falling heavier and from this position he had to rely on sound to determine how the fight was going.

"Stop!" A man was standing over him and if he turned his head and looked out of the corner of his eye he could make out the threat. In his hand, directed down at their hostage, was a weapon more deadly than concussive blasts. Struggling muted at the order.

Everyone was panting, plumes of smoke escaping into the frigid night air illuminated only by moonlight and the lights generated by enemy mages. The man standing over Alfred gasped a few more breaths and swirled a dry tongue around his mouth. "Surrender to us," he croaked, "and we'll let him go."

Alfred was still, considering. He still wanted to fight, wanted to win. But his view was entirely taken up with the threat on his life. His heart was beating painfully, the air too cold for his lungs.

"Okay," Ivan sighed, "I surrender."

"N-no!" Alfred tried to push futilely against his bonds, a desperate part of him hoping that this would be the time they would come apart. They held.

The traitor smiled. "Give us the king's ring!"

Nothing happened and the man shook his weapon and said louder, more determined, "Give us the ring!" There was a chatter of excitement and he caught something small in his free hand, fumbling it and finally directing his threat elsewhere.

"Victor." He tossed the object to the same mage who had gathered the guard's communication equipment. Alfred struggled enough to find a position to better view the scene. Ivan was stiff and at attention, his empty hands clenched at his sides and face even as he watched. The mage examined the small gold band between his fingers and then slipped it on to the index. In a flash, he was holding the staff Ivan had been wielding. He held it above his head to the cheers of his peers. Then it all went wrong.

The staff, as though it were alive, began to vibrate. Alfred could hear the angry buzzing from where he was as the mage attempted to hold onto it with both hands. No one else looked willing to step in and help him, even as ice began to bite into his hands from where he held it. The staff vanished quickly, but the damage had clearly already been done. And in his panicked yelling while trying to rip the ring free of his fingers all attention had been diverted away from the king of Clubs.

Alfred didn't notice either, but when he looked back, ice was already covering Ivan's lower half and moving upwards at a great rate. It formed something like a display case, like he was witnessing a stuffed figure being lowered into a tank for a museum.

"Ivan!" he shouted, even as the traitors were starting to realise something was occurring. If he heard, he didn't react and soon he doubted Ivan would have been able to hear him at all, even if he had gone up and beat on the clear sides with his fists.

And then there was silence.

A full minute passed before anyone spoke. "Well," their leader said as he eyed them all looking for explanations or suggestions to this new development. "I guess that solves one of our problems."

"What'll we do with him?" another asked.

"Take him with us." Their leader pointed to another set of tall boulders that Alfred could not distinguish from any of the others that were nearby. "Go get the wagon and drive it here. We'll have to load him up."

Their vehicle they backed up as close as they were able and then they gathered around both it and the frozen king, looking to one another and avoiding coming too close.

The mage held up his damaged hands, the ring fused snuggly into his frostbit skin. "You first."

Someone was roughly volunteered by his friends. He stumbled forward and hesitated, then touched a finger to the surface. When nothing happened he grew braver and spread out his entire hand across the icy surface. Everyone breathed a deep sigh of relief.

It took most of the crew to load the frozen sarcophagus into the back of their vehicle and they did so under vicious threats and obscenities as that was really all that Alfred had left. What remained of his increased strength was fading fast and he was still caught fast beneath magical binding. They ignored him, something fairly easily done when his own voice grew hoarse and they were grunting as they strained against the heavy weight.

And then it looked like were leaving without as much as a second glance. It renewed something inside Alfred. "Hey!" He flailed uselessly, but still somehow succeeded in gaining at least one of their attentions. "What about me?"

"What about you?" was the reply he got back. It was bitter and cruel.

"You can't leave me here!"

"That spell will wear off soon," the leader informed him. Everyone else was loading up, either squeezing into the cab or sitting in the back alongside Ivan. "We don't want trouble with Spades. Go crawl back to your own country."

The rumble of their engine echoed back to him for a while and then he wasn't sure he could still hear it for a while longer or if it was just his imagination that thought so. The spell wore off, the orange glow flickering and eventually fading entirely, but by now he was completely spent. Alfred lay there in the light dusting of snow that remained from the battle, struggling to keep the exhaustion he felt in the wake of his return to normalcy from overtaking him completely. At last he gave in, body too heavy to move anyway, and passed out thinking only of how screwed they all were.


	16. Chapter 16

In that darkness Alfred escaped and dreamt of warmth and his home. It was a wide field and he was convinced he really could feel the sun on his face. And if he focused on it he could almost ignore the gnawing reminder of reality or the flickering replay of images that was his final glimpses of Ivan's stiff form or a fading vehicle's rumble. It ruined the otherwise perfect moment, and he would feel something stab into his chest and his stomach would clench.

When he couldn't take it anymore he opened up his mouth and shouted at the non-existent sky. It wasn't a word, merely a cry of frustration that he, despite his self-inflated ego, couldn't make a thing go his way in months. The sound of it muffled like he was underwater. His fingers wound within his hair and pulled the strands taught.

"Don't…" a soft voice came.

Alfred found him, sitting half hidden in tall golden grasses like he were meditating. Excitement pulled him forward, bitter reminders drove him back. "This isn't real," he reminded himself, but couldn't look away.

"Ivan!"

Someone was shaking his shoulder and Alfred tried to bat it away, but his own arm refused to cooperate. "Stop," he ordered sluggishly, his voice far more pitiful than he imagined and he clung to the last remnants of his dreams. He fought against the prodding that bought reality down with it. His shoulder was shook again. It was rough and yanking him into awareness without any sympathy to his situation.

His eyes snapped open and he gasped a lung full of chilled air. Alfred's skin felt clammy where snow had melted and soaked his clothing and even if he focused he couldn't bring back the heat he had felt a few minutes earlier. He shivered, suddenly aware that feeling had left his fingers and retracted his arms beneath him to safely store his hands in his arm pits.

There was whinny and a snort of sparkling ice crystals which drifted harmlessly around him. Alfred turned his head and once his eyes focused recognized the horse that Ivan had ridden on their outing together. The mare's lips gathered a fold of the green wool still draped around Alfred's shoulder and tugged fiercely. Undoubtedly she had come for her master and manged only a consolation prize.

"Inei," he groaned when remembered her name. She stopped, ears forward at the sound of his voice and waited as he sat up and looked around. It was still dark, or perhaps dark again? No, he couldn't have been out here that long. Still his stomach grumbled and the emptiness of it was painful. He took his glasses off his face and rubbed them clear on the edge of his shirt. In the escape and fight it must have come untucked and puckered wrinkled around his waist.

"Ivan's gone," Alfred told the horse, thinking she might have enough intelligence to understand that. He cupped his hands to his mouth and blew warm air across them. The effect, if any, felt minimal and he tucked them back in under his arms again. "He's gone and there's nothing we can do about it."

Inei stomped and tossed her mane. She raised her upper lift and moved sideways. Alfred watched all this unmoved. "You got a plan?" Her reply echoed around them and she kept sidestepping to where Alfred was concerned a hoof was going to land on him. And then without warning the horse lay down beside him.

Alfred eyed her warily, even more suspicious when her neck reached around to where she could nip at his arms. "What? What do you want?" She was knocking against his back with her head now, shoving him forward against her dappled sides in what was likely gentle for her, but rough for someone considerably lighter than a full grown equine. Another minute of encouragement and he threw up his hands. "Fine, I get it."

He still wasn't eager to clamber on board. Sure, she carried Ivan fine and behaved docile to his orders, but as soon as she was freed on her own Alfred was sure the animal would bolt away with him or possibly buck him off. Inei nipped him when he took too long and seeing as he didn't have enough energy to get anywhere on his own, wearily dragged himself onto her back. Once situated with a leg on either side he leaned forward to wind his hands through the coarse hair of her mane. He was sure he would slide off as she got to her feet and clung awkwardly as she rose and started to walk, but the result, while not graceful, was successful.

At first he tried to sit up and ride her, tugging at her mane to try and turn her head. His attackers had driven away through a seemingly invisible path around the mountain going in the opposite direction they now headed, but when she refused to change her course he sighed and slouched over her withers. "Just take me home…" He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against her neck.

Inei kept a steady pace and once his muscles tired from keeping a clenched hold Alfred relaxed and found he could still easily remain on top of her. He felt numb which he chocked up to cold and fatigue having been the cause. What he wouldn't give for the free reign to his kitchen back home right about now. And he quietly wished that he was there already not in the midst of a coup against the established government.

And with nothing more to do except try and gain more warmth from his steed's body into his own, his mind began to wander. It lingered heavily on the castle, of the fate of the Queen and Jack. It considered which of the guards could have been the ones to turn against them as he had considered them all to be friends at this point. Who was hurt? Possibly killed? And Ivan… He tried to remove that though with a toss of his head as the pain he felt in his chest threatened to choke him.

Alfred hoped his ride knew the way back as he was for sure lost. They could be walking in circles for all he understood of the slowly changing landscape and by the time this thought had crossed his mind he didn't recognize anything, not even to retrace his steps back to where the journey had begun. He sat up straighter and squinted. Yes, mountain, another mountain… But where were they on his established horizon? This would have been so much easier if he had actually paid attention to his surroundings.

Ages past and as he saw no change, not a hint of civilization, he considered dismounting and fending for himself. He had been crazy to listen to an animal and trust it so explicitly. Alfred patted her neck. "Hey, uh, I'm good from here on, I think. I want to go back." Her ears swivelled towards him and she snorted, but didn't slow. He tugged on her mane, but her head continued to point straight ahead. He made his decision, planning on sliding off one side until a dark shape darted in his periphery. Perhaps it was better if he stayed with her until morning.

His chin fell forward against his chest and he attempted to doze. The rhythmic motion was soothing once you got the hang of it and he still swayed to it even after she came to a stop. Alfred's head shot back up, hoping that finally she had brought him somewhere safe and expected to see a house, a collection of people, anything. Before them instead stood a collection of large and unnaturally smooth boulders that at a glance he was sure were glowing slightly in the light of the moon but when looked at directly were dark. The air here was still, making him instinctually want to hold his breath "What the hell is this?" he whispered to the horse that didn't budge now that he wanted her to.

With less grace than he would ever admit Alfred dismounted and steadied himself against her side. Curiosity drove him forward more than the eerie feeling that kept his senses alert held him back. Who had put these here? Druids? And why? Stepping closer to one of the stones revealed carvings in the surface that were jammed together to cover every possible inch. His fingers hovered over what must have been words to a language he had never seen before.

"Don't touch that!"

Alfred's hand retracted to safety as he jumped, the voice loud and echoing from seemingly everywhere. He spun, glancing to every corner as he looked for the source. He spied only Inei who was still in the same spot as before, but by now was searching the ground for anything to nibble. "Who's there?"

Nothing moved. A voice came, close enough he could feel the breath on his ear as it spoke. "Knock knock."

He ducked and swung, his hand skimming the air unhindered and without a trace of the cause. It wasn't something he had imagined, he internally argued with himself. Then the whispers started. Only a few were distinguishable, the rest were a series of hissing and giggles.

"Look how scared he is!"

"Because _you_ yelled at him."

"I couldn't help it."

"I can't believe he's here."

"You'd doubt me?"

"Sometimes."

"… Rude."

"Did you like my knock knock joke?"

"I didn't get it."

"Oh… Okay…"

Somewhere towards the centre the darkness began to move. Light warped until a billowing humanoid mass was standing only feet ahead in front of him, large and intimidating. Alfred stepped back, then stumbled as a pair of eyes opened in what must have been the shape's head and burned like fire out of the shadow. "What are you doing here?" it said in the same loud demanding voice as before.

Alfred began to stammer. "The horse!" He tried to point, but he didn't dare look away to make sure he was pointing at Inei or not. "It's all her fault! She brought me here!"

The shape was walking forward in long strides. Fatigue made him lose his balance and he landed on his back with no hopes of escape leaving him to stare with wide eyes as the monster loomed over him.

Then it laughed. Not even a scary, menacing sort laugh either, but more of a crazed wheeze. It contrasted sharply with the monstrous form.

"You should see your face!" it said through its uncontrolled fit. The figure doubled over and wrapped shadowy arms around its stomach and anything it tried to say after was unintelligible. Alfred's face couldn't settle on an emotion in reaction, but shuffled through the confusion, fear, and frustration.

"Ignore him," another voice said behind him. This time when he looked he could see there stood a girl lovingly stroking Inei's nose. The horse's eyes were half closed at the attention. She wore a dark jacket with the hood pulled up over mostly containing her side ponytail of curly chestnut hair. She looked to be twelve, maybe? Alfred couldn't guess ages, but she was definitely young. "He's been planning this for a while now."

"Planning…?" Alfred tried to question, but she acted as though she hadn't heard him.

"I'm going," she announced and when she turned that's when Alfred spotted the deep black tail that swished in final annoyance with Inei keeping in step behind her. The sight of it made his lungs momentarily forget their purpose. She couldn't possibly be a joker.

By the time he looked back Alfred was greeted by a man no longer concealed in darkness. He was still chuckling and wiping tears as Alfred glared. At least his eyes had dulled from the glowing crimson that they were earlier, though they were still an unusual pinkish shade and when he grinned his canines protruded a little further in his smile. "Alfred. Big fan."

"Uh, thanks?" he replied awkwardly.

"I mean, your performance before?" He winked. "I can't wait to share that story."

Alfred felt hot and he fought to scramble to his feet. He reached out his hand to steady himself against the same rock he had attempted to touch before and froze.

The stranger shrugged. "I don't care if you touch it. It's a rock."

"What about the writing?" He swirled a finger over the top of some of the shapes.

"Pretty sure you're not going to wipe those off."

After a moment where he tried to convince himself that this wasn't a joke he gingerly laid a hand on it and used it help get back on his feet where he still wavered.

"Name's Gilbert," the joker said and his tail could be seen behind him lazily swaying like a content cat. He stuck out his hand.

Arthur's voice echoed in the back of Alfred's mind, stories he was told when he sleep eluded him at night during the first few years of life at the castle. Creatures incredibly powerful in magic, they were the ones who met the hero on his journey, but you were never sure which side they were on. Alfred cautiously shook his hand, still studying the other. He hadn't believed that they were real.

"Sorry, almost forget." Gilbert released him and closed his eyes, pressing his palms together. Alfred watched intrigued as one created a circle on the other with a low chant and begin to glow neon green. Then the joker's left hand shot out and hit him square on the forehead.

Alfred's head snapped back from the impact. "Ow! Fuck!" he growled, rubbing at the spot. "What was that for?"

Gilbert wore a cheeky grin, something that already seemed to be a default setting for the other. "Feel better?"

He paused and looked down at his arms. At first, he didn't think he noticed anything, but after another moment of thought he realised he wasn't feeling the draining fatigue in his limbs. He flexed his hands and tightened the muscles through his arms. It wasn't perfect, as there was still that deep desire for a full course meal and a soft bed, but at least now he didn't feel dead on his feet.

"Was this necessary?" he asked, pointing a finger towards the reddening mark on his head.

"Nah," Gilbert admitted, "but I promised someone if I got the chance I'd do it."

"Who did? Arthur? Did he tell you to plan this?"

"Maybe I'll tell you later," the joker hurried on, avoiding his gaze. He tugged the collar to his studded leather jacket straight though it hadn't needed it any adjustment.

"But he did send you, didn't he," Alfred continued and sighed, a mixture of relief and disappointment. With the circumstances the way they were he would have assumed he would have been glad to hear that Arthur had sent him a rescue. Maybe he didn't really hate him, and that thought was only able to kindle a small beacon of warmth within him.

"I don't answer to him." Gilbert made a face like he had been offended.

Alfred threw up his hands. "I didn't mean it like he orders you around."

The grin flashed once more. "As if he could. Actually, I think he should be finding out about the attack on the castle right about now."

He hesitated, processing what he had just heard. If Arthur was only just learning that he might be in danger… "But, then who…?"

Gilbert's tail drooped. "Don't you think I can make my own decisions?" At the stunned expression he patted the other on the shoulder. "Listen kid, you've got a lot of raw potential and zero skill. That fight back there?" He whistled. "You're lucky Pete told me something was happening or you would still be in that valley waiting for the crows to get ya."

"If this is supposed to be a pep talk, it sucks."

Gilbert opened his mouth like he was going to argue, seemed to ponder it, then shrugged. "Okay, but what I'm getting at is that I've got a lot of stuff I can teach you. And it can help save that Club King you're close with."

Alfred flushed hotly. "I'm not close with him."

"When you were out cold on the ground, did you see him?"

"I…" It was true. He had seen Ivan, but that didn't mean anything. "It was just some dream."

"Ugh," the joker groaned. "I've got to start with basics with you. Come on." Gilbert motioned for him to follow and started out towards the centre of the stones. "Next time you make me have to explain everything to you I'm going to make you do push ups while I talk. You get a free pass today because I don't want you fainting on me."

"Hey!" Alfred had to jog to catch up and walk alongside him. "Where are we going?"

Gilbert glanced over at him to check he was following. "You're hungry, aren't ya? I've got breakfast ready at my place."

Alfred's mouth was already salivating. "Is it far? And what about…?" He looked back where he had come, but there was nothing behind him. Any trace of horse or joker girl were gone leaving the king alone with his present company. Now without a ride to return with he resigned himself to seeing this option through.

The other pointed to a gap between two boulders that showed more of the same house-less landscape that were currently in. "It's through there." Gilbert laughed at the face he received, only encouraging the notion that he was possibly insane. "It's a secret. And I only let the best in."

If it had been several months ago, or maybe if he wasn't standing beside a joker like out of one of Arthur's fairy tales, Alfred would have told him exactly what his suggestion sounded like. Instead he remained beside the other and walked through the gap that really wasn't any wider than a standard doorway and really wasn't meant to be have to full grown adults attempt to squeeze their way through it at the same time. Neither would let the other pass first.

What greeted Alfred on the opposite side was blessed sunlight that he could feel warming his skin. It startled him and he immediately stuck his head back through to assure himself that it was still night time in the Clubs kingdom. Gilbert found it hilarious. "Time zones." He looked at his watch and tapped the face. "It's just after 10 here."

Alfred's head twisted in all directions. "Where's here?" They were standing in a meadow of fragrant grasses without a mountain in sight. Above the sky shone clear and blue and the sounds of birds were warbling from their hidden places among the scattered trees that bordered it.

"I told you, it's a secret." Gilbert looked odd with his pale skin and dark clothing standing in the sunlight. "No one finds this place unless I invite them in." He pointed further away from them to a small home sitting alone and before he could ask Gilbert had started walking towards it. "I made breakfast, but it's been sitting. Pretty sure it'll be okay."

The modest home didn't have any paint peeling or a sprig from the bushes out of place. Even the windows all looked like they had recently received a good wash. There was a small vegetable garden without weeds and the noise of unseen trickling water could be heard from somewhere close by. Gilbert opened the door and walked in without a backwards glance, kicking off his boots on the mat and pausing to straighten them. "Kitchen's this way."

Alfred hastily followed suit, tossing his own shoes into a pile beside his host's. He could already smell the food waiting for him and once he had made into the kitchen and found the spread laid out invitingly on the table he had stuffed his mouth full before his butt landed in a seat.

"Bet you're wondering why you're here!" Gilbert was pulling off his jacket and hanging it on a hook by the back door.

He chewed and swallowed half of what was in his mouth. "You're helping me get back to Spades, right?" The freed space was immediately refilled with another large bite.

The joker's smile fell. "Well, if you want. We're on the edge of Heart territory and it's only about a half hour walk to the nearest town." His face grew more determined and he held out a fist. "Don't you want to fight back?"

"Yeah! But –"

"Good!" Gilbert placed both his hands on the table. "I'm gonna help you. I know how to fight and look super awesome while doing it. I shouldn't really get involved. Not everybody's cool with jokers meddling in things." His eyes drifted away to stare at a spot behind Alfred and then in a blink he was back to how he had been. "That's why you've got to do it."

The simple idea of what was being suggested sprang up delusions of grandeur. That he would be a hero, a real honest-to-goodness hero, or that they would dedicate a day of celebration to him. He imagined the faces of everyone in Spades when they heard the news. He imagined helping people who couldn't fight take back their country. The light glimmered in his eyes as he saw it all flash invisibly before him.

Alfred paused, one aching question needing to be answered that cast shadow over his day dreams. "Is Ivan…?" He stopped, unable to complete his thought.

"He's in protective stasis. The kingdom's in trouble, somebody has the king's ring so you deep freeze the monarch until somebody gives the signal," Gilbert explained all the while picking at one of his fingernails. "Then he'll pop back out and the country won't collapse. I don't know, the Club Ace could probably explain it better, assuming you can get this one to actually carry out a complete conversation with you." He sighed. "I miss the old one."

Hope was all Alfred needed. "What kind of signal does he need?"

"I'm still working on that…" Gilbert shrugged sheepishly. "Best I understand is it can differ between kings. And I'd ask that squirrely little Ace bastard, but of course he's on lock down in the castle with a bunch of other staff and the queen and jack." He paused then added, "And probably Ivan now too. Hold on."

Gilbert snatched a small black orb off a nearby counter and began to shake it. "Where is Ivan Braginski?" he said aloud and then gazed into a small clearing at the top. "Yup, they've got a nice new statue for the courtyard."

A curious side-tracking thought crept into Alfred's mind. "Do you know who the Spade's Ace is?"

"I do."

"Anybody I know?"

"Sorry, my lips are sealed," and he mimed zipping them closed.

Alfred took another bite of his breakfast, his stomach less starving by now. "So, what happens if I stay?"

"You are going to learn the true meaning of being whipped into shape."

He grimaced at that, and yet he already knew he wasn't going to refuse. Guilt accused him of causing trouble for people who had shared their home with him, that it was his fault that the castle was overrun with terrorists. He couldn't just leave them in the hands of those who were also willing to leave a visiting royal to possibly die of exposure. Or had used him as a means to get Ivan to surrender.

It was the first time Alfred felt truly heroic in his life as chin lifted and his spine straightened. "I'm in."

He nearly regretted his decision as Gilbert promised they'd start training at dawn the next morning.


	17. Chapter 17

Matthias had already been told more than once to lower his voice by the monotone drone of his co-conspirator. And each time casting a pitiful look, first to Lukas the mage, then to Berwald his fellow ex-guard in hiding. They did not return to him any of the sympathy he thought he was owed. It really wasn't fair. He and Berwald had been forced to flee and hide in closets for the past six weeks and he was very aware of every hour that had occurred between the time that the anarchists had set off their bombs within the castle where he and Berwald had barely managed to escape as their fellow guards either turned or surrendered.

It was shameful no matter the outcome, but Matthias' pride had been especially hurt. Run away? Were he and Berwald cowards to have abandoned their king? He'd tried to mention his feelings to Lukas once, but received a roll of the eyes and a reminder that his escape meant the possibility that he could fight again. That and his duty was temporarily relinquished for a new cause when they displayed Ivan's frozen form in the courtyard overlooking the city. Somehow their talk did not make him feel any better about the situation at hand.

And that was when they trio formed the first of the new rebels, the ones who felt bound to the old king. From within Lukas' dark home they had planned and attempted to reach out to others who might aid their cause or at least were not opposed to it.

That's not to say it hadn't come without risks despite their not even once gotten as far coming up with a plan to take back the castle. Two weeks in the word had reached the wrong person and almost a quarter of their members were arrested by the new regime, another quarter fleeing to the mountains.

Lukas slapped a hand over his fingers which had been absently drumming on their meeting table. Matthias grinned sheepishly and pulled his hand back, looking around the room. It was near hopeless. No one here looked fighting ready, even with the right equipment which they would never be able to get their hands on. He glanced at Berwald on his left and Lukas to his right. Their faces set in perfect stillness betrayed enough to him to know they were thinking the same.

"Have we heard from our assassin?" Matthias asked. "Is he still coming to help us?"

Berwald nodded. "Yes. Should be here any day."

"Good. And your coven?"

Lukas sniffed. "It's not a coven. They are still deliberating. These things take time."

"So what are we going to do?" someone new asked. Matthias had already decided he would be more a hindrance than any real help. He hadn't been capable of sitting still in his seat for a full thirty seconds since he had arrived. They would need to move their meetings when he was caught and spilled most of their secrets to the police.

"You'll keep recruiting for now." Lukas answered for him, thankfully taking charge. "You know the blog. See who's reading it, who's on our side." He fixed the newbie with an especially serious glare. "We need an army."

"When's Spade's coming?"

The stranger gave Matthias pause. He hadn't recalled him coming in, but he especially didn't like the way the person had a hood pulled low over their head. They had to keep the lights dimmed within their room, should anyone attempt to peer in through a crack and spy, but he couldn't make out any features of the person's face. Only by the voice could he guess that whoever it was a man and still fairly young.

"They're not." Matthias stood slowly, either side of him his companions also rose. Berwald's hand traveled to a utility knife at his belt. Lukas he was sure was forming symbols with his fingers behind his back. "We show our faces here, friend. Take off the hood."

"Ah, about that..." The stranger gave an awkward laugh. "I was sorta hoping I could just listen for now?"

"We can't trust you if we don't know who you are. Lower the hood," he repeated.

The chair he had occupied scrapped backwards with the force he used to escape from it. "Come on guys..."

Lukas moved first, His hands whipped out from behind him carrying with them the invisible force that would knock into the potential spy. Most of their recruits were still too green to understand what was happening and watched with stunned open mouths as wind buffeted them. His spell charged full force as the stranger raised his right arm like he was holding a shield and the hood of his jacket only trembled as spell stopped harmlessly.

The Club mage lowered his arms and avoided the questioning gaze of his compatriots by staring straight ahead.

"Grab him!" Matthias ordered, "Don't let him leave!"

Several, the order shaking them out of their astonishment, began to rush forward. The first to reach him missed as the stranger stepped aside and tripped him, sending the recruit crashing into another who attempted to run up from behind. Having witnessed this did not save the next from meeting a similar fate. The third was not much better, as his arm was grabbed and spun around behind him.

The three leaders were around their table and making their way into the center of the commotion, arriving just in time for a man to be clotheslined and fall onto his back. "Hey," Matthias stepped forward, flanked by Lukas who had created strings of pulsing green between his hands and Berwald who was imposing enough on his own. "Why don't you fight with someone at your own skill level?"

"That doesn't put a lot of confidence in your army, just so you know."

He had a point and Matthias made an embarrassingly incomprehensible whine, something about having to be cautious even about training sessions. At any point someone could break in and arrest them all! With a sigh Lukas snapped his ropes like a whip and sent them in the strangers direction. The unseen shield went up, blocking all but one that found purchase and wrapped itself around the man's ankle.

He jerked the magical ropes back and it was just enough force to unbalance the intruder. The man crashed onto his back on the floor. As he struggled, finally managing to recover to get his feet back underneath him, his hood slipped off his head.

Lukas, who's arm was raised in another attack, froze. The spell dissipated, and he immediately retreated a step and bowed. Matthias, the last of the three to react appropriately, awkwardly bowed as well. "Your highness!"

Alfred stood, playing the hood before ultimately deciding that it wouldn't undo what they had seen and instead tugged as his sleeves. "Hey guys..."

"What are you doing here?" Matthias straightened. "Spades thinks you're dead. We might have been thinking the same."

It was Alfred's turn to look surprised. "Wait, they do?"

"Of course they do." Lukas produced a small compact from his pocket and held up the palm sized mirror so Alfred could see the stream of headlines. "You disappeared a month and a half ago. The nation has been in mourning."

Alfred tentatively picked up the small object and held it between his fingertips as he scrolled through headlines. Spades King Missing. Alfred Presumed Dead. Nation Searches For Next Appointed King. Time had moved differently while he was with Gilbert and the joker hadn't allowed him any distractions while they were training. He wasn't sure how he felt about it as he handed the mirror back. "So they aren't coming."

Lukas shook his head. "The queen's unreachable leaving the jack to attempt to convince the parliament that something should be done, but his opinion of it is to ask to search for a corpse not aid rebels in their national affairs."

First chance I get, Alfred promised himself, I need to send a message to Arthur and let him know I'm okay.

Berwald had leaned closer, his stare able to hold the shorter king in place while he waited for a chance to speak. "Are you going to help us?"

"Berwald, don't be stupid. Of course he is!"

Not convinced, the royal guard waited for a confirmation of it for himself. He would have to think about his home later, and did his best to reluctantly set those aside for now. "Yeah, I'm going to help." Alfred smiled in practiced confidence assuming cool pose #8 which involved pulling his shoulders back and putting his fists at his hips. Gilbert had regretted teaching him that one and complained regularly that there another eighty he could choose from.

The result was exactly what he had hoped for. The gathering of fighters looked far more alive than when he had first walked in this evening. Gilbert had said he was ready and there was a moment where he believed it was possible he was.

"I need a place to stay in the city. Do you know of one?"

"Yes. It'll be harder to keep it secret." Lukas exchanged a glance with the others and nodded. "We can take you there."

Matthias quickly broke up their meeting and silently the gathering filtered out through the door in small groups of two or three, leaving plenty of space between their departures to disperse into the night. Alfred pulled his hood over his head, once more obscuring his face from view as lights were extinguished and all traces of the meeting was cleared away. The final four vanished into the cool night air leaving behind a bare room.

Down the streets the walked, keeping to shadows and alleys rarely used. Few were out at this hour which also made them look far more suspicious. After walking for twenty minutes Matthias and Berwald split away, silently communicating their farewells through small hand gestures. Lukas nodded and continued to lead Alfred through the city, holding him back when he could hear someone approaching and hiding until the coast was clear. If footsteps sounded too near he would tug the hood further down over his face and hold his breath until Lukas began to move again.

Another thirty minutes and they were at a small theatre whose windows were blackened and a sign had been hastily posted out front declaring it closed until further notice. Ignoring the door they went to a window and slid it open wide enough to crawl through. Once they were through and the opening closed again Alfred sat blinded awaiting light enough to see. Instead he felt a hand that covered his eyes and muttered words barely above a whisper.

When the hand removed itself, the room became clear. His vision, while in black and white, was capable of making out the words written on papers in the office they now found themselves. He opened his mouth to say something, but caught Lukas holding a finger to his lips. The mage crept forward and after sticking his head out through the door waved for Alfred to follow him. Together they crept out into a hallway and bypassing the auditorium which Alfred thought he could make out light trickling from the stained glass windows only because it filled the designs with a bright white opposed to grey shades.

The hallway ended to doors leading to backstage which Lukas eased open to minimize any possible noise and they ducked through. From between the curtains a deep throated chuckle sounded, but Alfred couldn't see the owner to whom it belonged. Lukas quickened their pace. Past the dressing rooms, racks of costumes and equipment. Through a room filled with props to a set of stairs and down into a room filled with boxes from the floor to the ceiling. He got lost in the labyrinth of shelves until Lukas found what he was looking for. Grabbing Alfred's wrist and pulling him close over an odd looking carpet, he muttered several strings of nonsensical phrases while the floor beneath them glowed and hummed.

The effect was instantaneous. One moment he was surrounded by dusty boxes, and the next he was in a cupboard. It was too much and Alfred's swimming head sent him careening sideways where he wretched the contents of stomach onto the floor. Lukas, not looking much better, collapsed in an undignified heap barely a foot from where he had arrived.

In the midst of recovering the door opened, flooding the tiny space with light and blinding his night vision leaving him entirely helpless. He held up his shielding arm and braced for what could come. "Lukas?" a familiar voice sounded. Through squinting eyes he could see the mage's feet where the were righted. A moment later a hand covered his eyes and his vision returned to normal.

After rubbing the remaining effects away, he looked up to find Eduard, one of the three clergy, standing next to Lukas with wide eyes. "Lukas," he exclaimed, "That's... Alfred?" He waved, and Eduard hesitantly raised a hand in return.

"I guess I've got to start telling people I'm not dead?" Alfred laughed, but it wasn't the usual chuckle filled with merriment and not one that was returned. He wiped sweat from his face and rested a hand against the doorway to steady himself as he took the first few steps out after the jarring experience of teleporting. "Sorry about... uh..."

"Don't worry. Happens to everyone."

The dizziness faded quickly and soon it was only a memory of the terrible experience. And he wasn't looking forward to having to leave through the same means. Outside of the tiny room he recognized the stonewalls hidden by statues, paintings, and tapestries of every possible color. He was now within the cathedral of the muses, which would explain the presence of Eduard. He still wore floor length robes, but he had opened it in the front to reveal the dress shirt he wore underneath. The way his head kept swaying from one to the other Alfred was sure he would join them in feeling dizzy. "But... he's... well, we've all assumed... I... I don't mean anything by it!"

Lukas narrowed his gaze. "He hasn't explained. Arrived at one our meetings and attempted to hide himself from us."

They were both looking at him now and he hesitated. Gilbert did warn him about sharing too much too soon. Something about information ending up with their enemies quicker than their allies. But that wasn't the main factor. He wasn't sure how to explain why things were different now, mostly because he wasn't sure why it was. While all this went through his head he realized he had been standing there with his mouth hung open and in recovery smiled.

"I guess I could start by asking if there's anything you'd like me to tell Ivan."


End file.
